


The Moment We Come Alive

by Kataclysm22



Series: StevexOC: What's Inside My Head [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, Depression, Fluff, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Mentions of Mental Illness, Multi, PTSD, Recovery, Romance, but leaning more towards sweet, lost loved ones, over-protective steve, sad Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kataclysm22/pseuds/Kataclysm22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six months since Steve Rogers awoke to find himself in the 21st century, and he couldn't feel more lost. He thinks that maybe a trip to Brooklyn will help ease the hurt, but Steve ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for stopping by. The idea for this fic just sorta came to me one day, and I'm not entirely sure where it's going to end up, but I hope you'll stick with me on the journey. The story starts about 6 months after Steve was awoken from the ice but before "The Avengers" takes place, and will probably span "The Avengers", "The Winter Soldier", and into "Civil War". We'll see. :) Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Raining in March, in New York City… what a surprise. Too bad the weatherman had called for clear skies this evening. Steve should have known better than to trust the forecast, but he'd forgotten his umbrella all the same. Now the rain was running down the collar of his jacket and snaking down his neck in cold tracks. It didn't matter, he supposed, but it was uncomfortable all the same.

He shrugged his jacket a little further up his neck, trying to shelter it from the wet and the cold. Too late; his hair was already soaked and soon his clothes would be too. Maybe he should turn back; this was a stupid idea in the first place.

Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to look over his shoulder. Maybe the taxi that had brought him down to Brooklyn would still be there… Who was he kidding? The yellow car was long gone, vanishing into the steady stream of traffic at his left.

He sighed heavily. _Alright,_ he thought to himself, _too late now. I'm already here. Might as well make the most of it. After seventy years on ice, a little rain won't hurt._

Steve looked around to try and get his bearings, but found only stark grey buildings and unfamiliarity. This was not the Brooklyn he remembered, not at all. He'd thought if he could come to the place he'd called home for so long, it might help a little bit. Now, he was starting to think this trip might have been a bad idea. It felt like that terrifying moment when he'd first found himself in Times Square, surrounded by digital displays and alien technologies.

"This is stupid," he muttered to himself, rolling his broad shoulders in an effort to dispel his own discomfort. "Just gotta keep walking."

As the people around him rushed by, wholly focused on their own lives and where they were headed, Steve gazed at the neighborhood he'd found himself in. There were office buildings shoved up against 19th century brownstones, creating a strange amalgam of ages gone by all pressed together to make something new. The brownstones he remembered, at least. Those had been there ever since he was a kid. He and Bucky would joke about the stuffy rich people who lived in Carroll Park all the time, with their pressed shirts and fancy cars. Secretly, Steve wondered what it would be like to be them. Maybe then, his mom wouldn't have gotten sick…

 _Quit it, Steve. Doesn't help any to think about that. She's gone… Bucky's gone… They're all gone…_ There was a hollow ache in his chest, one that had been there since the day he'd awoken to find himself in the 21st century. Sometimes, he still wondered if this was all some crazy, vivid dream, and he'd wake up at any moment. But every night, he laid down his head to sleep, and he dreamt of the past. That was enough to convince him the life he was living wasn't false. You couldn't dream while you were dreaming… could you?

Sometimes, the dreams were of his childhood. He'd see his mother standing in the kitchen of their tiny Brooklyn apartment, humming quietly to herself and baking one of her delicious pies. He could almost smell the aroma of the crust and the spiced apples. Other times, his dreams were full of his life before the war and the serum had happened to him; Bucky trying to convince him to go out with some girls he'd picked up; going to the movies and only paying a nickel; wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with his life.

But most of the time, he dreamt of his life post-serum. For the rest of the world, Captain America had existed for nearly seventy years, beating up bad guys and saving the day on the pages of a comic book. But for Steve, it was all still relatively new. To him, it hadn't been more than a couple years, if even that. He wondered idly if the serum would eventually wear off. So far, it was permanent. Not even Dr. Erskine knew if it would last though, and Steve found himself doubting almost daily, fearing that he'd wake up one day and be back to that scrawny, sick kid he'd always been.

"Dammit, Rogers," he muttered to himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and ducking his head against the rain. Steve was finding himself lost in his own thoughts more and more these days. The psychologist Fury had him going to twice a week told him it would help if he voiced his feelings; he only said as much as he had to in order to keep her, and Director Fury, off his back. Steve didn't really feel like talking about it.

What could he say anyways? How could he explain what it felt like to realize an entire lifetime had passed by while he remained the same? Everyone he'd ever known and loved was either dead or too old to remember him. They had told him Peggy was still alive, though she lived in a senior care facility full time. He hadn't worked up the nerve to see her yet. Would she even remember him? It had been so long…

There he was again, dwelling in his thoughts. Steve looked up and saw he'd walked a few blocks already without really realizing it. A quick glance at a street sign told him he was on Union St. When he was a kid, there had been a park not too far from here; maybe it was still there. The rain had let up considerably now. He could go sit for a while; let the fresh, spring air clear his head.

He walked with renewed purpose, working off a vague understanding of where he was. The street names hadn't changed, even if the buildings and the neighborhood had. After another block, Union intersected with Smith St. and he crossed at a stoplight, jogging down the sidewalk with a sudden burst of energy. There was a shop on the corner of Smith and Union that he thought he recognized, but only vaguely. It was enough to ease that ache in his chest a little.

One more block and he was at President St, where a small park edged by a wrought iron fence appeared on his right. Steve let a glimmer of a smile pass over his face in satisfaction, but it disappeared quickly.

There weren't very many people in the park. He guessed it was a combination of the weather and the fact that the day was almost over. The clouds were covering the sun, but he could tell it was getting close to dusk. That was fine by him though; the fewer people there were to distract him, the better.

Lazily, he strolled along the concrete path that cut through the grass, leading into the small park. It was only about a block long and half a block wide, but it was secluded enough to seem a lot bigger. Giant shade trees lined the path, helping block out the noise of the city. Steve gazed up at their leaves as he walked underneath them. Just a little bit further down the path was a quaint fountain, gurgling quietly as water spewed from the trumpet of the cherub that resided at the top.

Past the fountain he walked, until he came to the main pavilion of the park. There was less green here, taken over by the concrete square. Along the fence were a few benches, and some picnic tables right in the middle, ringed by a smaller fence to separate that area from the rest of the park. There was a family sitting at one of the tables; a mother and father with their small baby, laughing and talking to one another. He gazed at them for a moment as he walked by, feeling a pang go through his chest.

Would that have been the future for him and Peggy? He tried to imagine what that would be like. Marrying her and moving back to Brooklyn, starting a family, growing old together… It was too much. He shook his head in a vain effort to rid his head of those thoughts.

Steve walked a little further into the pavilion where an 18-foot tall monument stood right in the center. There were bronze inserts on every side; two of the opposite sides held relief portraits of men in military uniforms, while the other two listed names. They were the names of men from this neighborhood who had lost their lives in World War I. Gingerly, he ran his fingers over the names, and wondered if anyone came here to remember them anymore. These men had died in service to their country, and they deserved to be remembered, all of them. Sometimes… sometimes Steve wished that he had gone that way. A part of him thought it might have been better than waking up in a world he didn't know.

"You're not really supposed to touch the monument, ya know," a voice said softly from behind him. Steve stumbled backwards off the raised platform he had climbed to get a better view of the plaque. As his feet reconnected with the concrete pavilion, he found himself looking down at his admonisher.

"Oh," he said dumbly, rubbing at the back of his neck in a nervous gesture he'd always had, "sorry, I… I haven't been here in a long time. I just wanted to get a better look." The girl appraised him brazenly for a moment, arms crossed over her chest, looking him up and down for several tense seconds before allowing a smile to come to her face. Steve guessed she'd inspected him and figured he wasn't crazy after all.

"It hasn't changed much in the almost hundred years it's stood here," she said jokingly, uncrossing her arms and clasping her hands behind her back. Her bright gaze shifted away from him and up to the monument. "If it goes undisturbed, it won't change for another hundred. Well, maybe. It did have to be fully restored in 1994 due to erosion by the natural elements, but they took measures to protect it better this time."

Steve watched her in utter fascination as she began to stroll slowly around the monument, eyes roaming over the stone structure the way they had roamed over him only moments ago. Who was this girl? Acting on instinct, he began walking along behind her at a respectful distance.

"You seem to know a lot about this thing," he said hesitantly. She shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture.

"Yeah, I've studied it a bit," she admitted, almost sheepishly. Steve could hear the smile in her voice, and he found that his interest had been piqued. They walked in silence for a few moments longer, Steve staring after this odd girl and the girl still staring at the monument. "They faced the perils of the sea," she continued quietly, "and the hidden foe beneath the waves. They sought no glory but their country's good."

Steve couldn't help but stare as the poetic words poured from her mouth. "Pardon?" he asked. She blinked rapidly a few times, and the serious expression that her face had held melted into the warmest of smiles.

"The inscription," she replied with a gesture towards the granite structure. "That's what it reads. It's beautiful, really. These men had no idea what they were getting into, but they sacrificed themselves anyways. And for their country; for people they'd never met. I have a lot of respect for them."

While the girl kept her eyes on the monument, Steve found he couldn't take his eyes off her. He hadn't intended to engage anyone in conversation. In fact, the whole point of this outing to Brooklyn was to have some time to himself. But right now, none of that seemed to matter. She had captured his attention, to the point that he couldn't look away.

"What's your name?" The words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He was never any good at talking to girls, and the serum hadn't changed that at all. But talking to this girl seemed oddly natural, and he felt like she was familiar somehow. Had they met before?

"Hmm?" she said, tearing her gaze away from the structure once more. "Oh, how rude of me. Sorry, I'm Katherine. You can call me Kat." She extended her hand, which he gladly took with a smile.

"Steve," he replied, taking care not to squeeze _too_ hard. He let go a little reluctantly. "So, do you live nearby?" He paused when he realized what he'd said and how it must have sounded. For God's sake, he had just met this girl. She was going to think he was a creep! "I mean, it's just... ah, you seem to be really familiar with this park. I just kinda assumed you―"

"Steve, it's okay," Katherine laughed, pulling her cream knit sweater a little tighter around her. "I get it. And to answer your question, yeah I do. Well, my grandmother does, and I live with her. I help take care of her. It's been hard for her ever since my grandpa passed away a few years ago; I moved in so she'd have some company and to help out with the little things she can't do anymore. My God, I'm rambling now. Please, feel free to stop me any time." She let out a bell-like peal of laughter, and Steve felt a smile come to his own face.

"No, no, it's fine, really. I don't mind at all." And oddly, it wasn't a lie. Kat laughed sheepishly and looked away in embarrassment.

"So," she continued without missing a beat, "are you new to the neighborhood then? Most of the neighbors spend a lot of time here, and I'm pretty familiar with them. Haven't seen you before though."

Steve shook his head. "No, I..." God, what was he gonna say? _Yeah, I grew up nearby in the 1940s and, due to a freak accident, find myself here, looking for familiarity in a world I no longer recognize?_ Yeah, he didn't think so. "Actually, I live in Manhattan," he said quickly. "I grew up not too far away, and I used to love coming here as a kid. Just moved back to the city, actually; thought I'd revisit some of my old haunts." Steve was surprised at himself with how easily the lies had come to him. They were more like stretched truths, but still.

"Oh, well welcome back." There was genuine warmth in her voice, which Steve found refreshing. The people he was always with at S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to walk on eggshells around him; it was a nice change of pace to have a conversation with someone who knew nothing about him. "What took you away in the first place?" she asked. Steve felt his pulse quicken as nervousness flooded his body. What was he supposed to say to that?

"Uh," he hedged, stalling for time, "it was military service." It was the truest thing he could come up with on the spot. At his answer, Kat's eyes seemed to shine a little brighter.

"Oh wow," she replied, "well thank you for your service, then." He inclined his head in response, not trusting himself to say anything. "I feel pretty dumb now, talking to you about those men that sacrificed their lives. Don't need to tell you that."

Steve waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's okay, I don't mind."

"So I guess that took you all over then, huh?" There she was again, seamlessly continuing the conversation while he searched for words. It was enough to take his breath away.

"Yeah, I've been away from New York for... quite a while," he said with a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck in that familiar nervous habit. "Feels good to be home now. Even if it has changed a lot."

"I know what you mean," she laughed. Steve had to bite back his own sarcastic laughter. She didn't know the half of it. "My mom and dad raised my brother and I here, but we moved away when I was nine. They didn't like the changes in the neighborhood, and the schools weren't great, so they moved us to the suburbs. When I came back for my undergrad studies, I couldn't believe how different everything was."

"Where did you study?" Steve jumped at the chance to change the subject away from him and his time away from New York.

"NYU. I got my undergrad degree in American History, and I'm working on my graduate studies right now."

 _Wow,_ Steve thought with a flutter in his stomach, _pretty and smart._ "Explains your knowledge of the statue," he said with a chuckle. Katherine laughed too, casting her eyes at the ground and kicking at a pebble near her feet.

"Well," she said slowly, "my family has lived in Brooklyn for... well, forever. I have a particular fondness for this place."

"I can see that," he replied softly. She shifted her soft, grey eyes up to his face and smiled brightly. They stood gazing at one another for a few, silent seconds. Then he noticed her expression falter a bit.

"Well, Steve," she sighed, "it's been nice speaking to you. I've got to get back to my grandma now, but it was so nice to meet you." She held out her hand and Steve took it once again, lingering a little longer this time.

"Can I walk you home?" he offered. "It's getting kinda late."

Kat chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. Then, with a playful smirk, she said, "Sure, why not? You haven't murdered me yet, so I guess I'll trust you." Steve appreciated her joking manner more than he could say. She had no idea how different it was from his daily routine.

She turned away from the granite structure that had started their whole conversation, crossing her arms for warmth and waiting for Steve to fall into step beside her. He hung back slightly, as she was leading the way, and kept his distance. He didn't want to seem too forward, especially after Kat's "murder" comment.

As they walked, they continued with their easy conversation. Kat was a natural conversationalist, which put Steve at ease. Talking to strangers hadn't ever come easily to him, especially not when it was a girl, and she was as pretty as Kat. As she talked, he took a moment to watch her. She used her hands to gesticulate while she talked, flicking and twisting and waving her hands every which way as she pointed out various historical places and things along their route. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and she wore a minimal amount of makeup, which he didn't mind. Her eyes were beautiful enough, he didn't think they needed any enhancement.

After inspecting her for a few moments longer, he realized that it was her eyes that made him think he knew her from somewhere. But there was no way. He had very minimal contact with the world outside of S.H.I.E.L.D., and he knew that he would have remembered meeting Kat before. Maybe it was just his imagination, or he was mixing up past and present again. He'd done it before. Still, there was something about the way they'd fallen into conversation that felt so natural to him. It was the first thing since he'd awoken from the ice that had felt natural.

Before he knew it, Kat was turning back to him with that warm smile he was beginning to like very much. "Well," she said with a gesture towards a large brownstone at their right, "here we are. This is me. So... I'll uh..." She balanced back on the balls of her feet, watching Steve expectantly.

Crap, what was he supposed to do? He didn't know where to go from here. Should he ask her out to dinner? No, that would be too forward. They'd only just met. He seemed to remember that people these days met for coffee more often than anything else. It was casual, but offered a chance to get to know someone better in a public, non-intimate setting. Right... did he know of any coffee shops? He couldn't remember any near the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility he lived at. Dammit, he'd been quiet too long. Kat's face fell ever so slightly, and her eyes shifted nervously to her shoes.

"Maybe," Steve began hesitantly, "I can call you sometime?" She was smiling brightly again, looking up at his much larger frame.

"Sure," she replied happily, "maybe we can go for coffee or something."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Um..." Steve fished his S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued cell phone out of his pocket, fumbling with the touch screen for a moment before pulling up the page where his contacts were. It had taken him several months, and he still hadn't fully gotten the hang of it, but it was becoming easier to handle the cellphone.

"Here, let me put my number in," she said, taking the phone from his trembling hands and deftly typing her name and number in. Nervousness fluttered in his chest when their fingers brushed against one another, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. When she was finished, she handed it back over. "I'll see ya later then. It was great meeting you, Steve."

"Yeah, you too, Kat," he replied. With one last, brilliant smile, she turned and strolled up the brick path to the front door of the house. She turned on the stoop, giving him one last enthusiastic wave before disappearing inside.

After she was gone, he stood outside the gate of their front garden for a few moments, gazing up at the brick house and smiling to himself. But then he realized he probably looked like some crazy stalker and turned to make his way down the sidewalk, heading back to the main road so he could catch a cab back to Manhattan.

Steve couldn't have dreamt up a better turnaround to his day. It had started out just as dreary and depressing as any other. And now, for the first time since he'd awoken in the 21st century, he was looking forward to something. That hollow ache in his chest he'd become so familiar with had disappeared almost completely. And as he headed back towards the main street, it was with a genuine smile on his face.


	2. Expectations

Two days had passed since he'd met Katherine, and it seemed like his entire world had shifted...well, shifted again. Steve's thoughts had been consumed by her. The way her mouth curved when she smiled; the light in her eyes as she talked about that statue; the feel of her hand in his. It seemed to be all he could think about, but he wasn't sure why.

Yes, she was smart and funny and incredibly beautiful, but this felt... somehow off. It was like there was an invisible force, pulling him towards her, like gravity. He didn't get it. Steve was just now coming to terms with the fact that he was technically ninety-five years old, living in the body of a twenty-six year old; albeit an enhanced body, but still... How could he possibly justify these feelings on top of all that? It was enough to make his head spin.

"Captain Rogers?" the voice of his therapist snapped him out of his daze.

"What?" he asked, shaking his head slightly and turning his gaze on the woman across from him. She was staring at him over her glasses, which were perched on the tip of her nose, tapping her pencil against the notepad she held in her lap.

"You seem to be miles away today," she remarked with the smallest of smiles.

Steve exhaled heavily and stared at his lap. "Just thinking, that's all."

The therapist—Dr. Singer—made a low humming noise. "Anything you'd like to share?" she questioned in that conciliatory tone she always had. Steve suspected she didn't talk like that all the time, only to her patients. He kept quiet for a moment, mulling over whether he actually _did_ want to share or not.

"I went out the other day," he finally blurted out, keeping his eyes downcast and shoulders hunched forward.

"Oh?" She sounded surprised. "Where to?"

"Brooklyn."

"Ah, I see." Steve could only see her in his periphery, but he heard the scratch of her pen on paper. "What were you hoping to find?" she asked, still looking at her paper as she scribbled hastily.

"Something familiar," he muttered back, shifting awkwardly in the overstuffed chair.

Dr. Singer waited a few more moments. "And did you?" she prompted.

Steve shook his head. _Well,_ he thought, _maybe. There's something about Kat that feels familiar, but I can't put a finger on it._ "The world's changed since the last time I was here," he continued. "Nothing's the same. But... but I did meet a girl. She said we should meet for coffee sometime." He didn't know why he was telling Dr. Singer this; it wasn't any of her business, really. But it felt good to tell someone about his impromptu outing, and the pleasant outcome he'd gotten from it.

"That's good to hear, Captain Rogers," the therapist replied with a smile. Steve bristled a bit at her use of the title. He wasn't a Captain, not anymore anyways. "Have you called her?"

Steve looked up at the woman's sharp, blue gaze. "What?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"Have you called her?" she repeated.

 _Crap._ It had been two days and he hadn't called her at all; he wasn't going to attempt to text or email. It was just, every time he went to dial her number, something was holding him back. That same nagging feeling that getting involved with someone right now was a terrible idea. He had enough on his plate without trying to figure out how to fit romance onto it.

"Uh, no, I haven't," he finally muttered. Dr. Singer shifted in her swivel chair, removing her glasses from her nose and uncrossing her legs in one fluid motion.

"I think it would be good for you, Captain Rogers," she said matter-of-factly. "You've been idling for six months, not really sure where you're going, or what you're going to do. Please, stop me if I'm incorrect in saying so." Her tone wasn't confrontational; more a statement of fact than anything. "Short of writing you a prescription, I'd encourage you to go out with this girl, and see what life in the 21st century is all about. I think it will help enormously."

There was no denying that he wanted to see Kat again; the pull was too strong and his misery was starting to weigh on him. Whatever it was that was holding him back was doing a damn good job of it. But maybe he needed to take a risk and put himself out there. Maybe Dr. Singer was right, and it really would do him some good.

His gaze shifted up to her expectant expression. "Yeah, okay. I think I can do that," he said, intentionally making his voice sound more confident than he felt. That answer seemed to satisfy her though, because Dr. Singer placed her notebook on the side-table by her chair and informed him that they were done for the day.

Steve couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough. As soon as he was in the hallway, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, hands shaking as he went into his contacts. It took him only a moment to navigate the list; the amount of numbers in his phone was so small that her name was almost at the top. He stared at it for a moment.

 _Kat W._ Her number was right underneath that, and a little picture of a handheld phone next to that. Steve knew if he just touched that picture of the little phone, it would dial her right away. All he had to do was touch it... so why the hell couldn't he do it?

He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall. This was just ridiculous. There was no reason to be nervous. She had been the one to say they should get together; it wasn't like he was goin' out on a limb here. But his heart was pounding nearly out of his chest all the same.

"Just do it, Rogers," he muttered quietly, pushing up off the wall slightly and staring back at his phone. His thumb hovered over the phone icon. "Here goes nothin'." He could hear the electronic ringing as soon as he tapped on the icon, hastily putting the phone up to his ear. With each ring, his heart beat just a little bit faster and the pit in his stomach grew a little bit deeper. Finally, on the fourth ring, the line picked up.

"Hello?" her voice came from the other end, friendly and curious.

"Hey, Kat," Steve said, taking a moment to clear his throat. "It's, uh... it's Steve. Ya know, from the park? I touched your monument."

"Oh, hey Steve!" she exclaimed happily. At her tone, Steve felt his shoulders relax just a bit, and a smile come to his face. "I was startin' to think you'd forgotten about me."

"Oh, no way," he laughed. "Sorry, I've been... busy."

"It's no problem. I'm really glad you called, Steve." He could hear the smile in her voice, and his heart seemed to skip a beat.

There was an awkward silence for a moment while Steve relished in the goofy grin that had spread over his face. But he snapped out of it quickly. "So," he continued in a quiet voice, "you mentioned meeting for coffee the other day. There's a diner I know; I thought that maybe, if you weren't busy tomorrow afternoon, I could meet you there?" It came out less confident than he'd intended.

"Um, tomorrow afternoon?" Silence fell between them, and Steve's heart sank a little. He heard papers shuffling on the other line, and then Kat let out a little hum of contemplation. "Yeah, looks like I don't have anything on my calendar. Is 3 o'clock okay?"

Steve didn't ever have anything on his calendar, besides his meetings with Dr. Singer. "3 o'clock is perfect."

"So, you'll text me the name of the place?" she asked.

"Uh—" He'd have to get someone to do it for him; texting and emailing was still just a little bit out of his reach. "Yeah, I'll text you."

"Great, I'll see ya tomorrow then. Can't wait." Steve sighed in relief when he recognized genuine excitement in her voice. "Bye, Steve!"

"See ya, Kat." With that, he pulled the phone away from his face and hung up, exhaling the breath he'd been holding in the entire time. It felt like a bit of the weight on his chest had lifted, and his steps as he walked down the hall were a little bit lighter now.

 

* * *

 

For the third time in a span of about five minutes, Steve checked his wristwatch. It was only 2:42; there was no reason to be worried. She'd show up any second now... wouldn't she? Involuntarily, his leg began to bounce up and down in nervousness. He rolled his shoulders to try and loosen up, but it only helped a little.

"Can I get you anything else?" Steve looked up to see the blonde waitress who'd stopped by his table a couple of times already.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," he said. "Thanks. I'm waiting on someone." The waitress smiled and nodded, turning away to check on a couple more tables.

Steve fingered the handle of his ceramic coffee mug absentmindedly, watching the dark brown liquid inside slosh around. When he was a kid, coffee had been a commodity their family couldn't afford; a luxury, even. As he got older, Bucky used to drag him to this 24-hour joint near his place—Steve thought it was called 'Mike's', but he couldn't remember exactly—where they'd pay 50 cents for a cup of coffee and a slice of their fresh apple pie. Now here he was, paying $2.50 for a so-so brew. Just another bullet on the list of things that didn't make sense.

"Steve?" Kat's voice caused Steve's gaze to snap up from the table, searching the outdoor seating area for any sign of her. Finally, he spotted her weaving her way through the tables and other patrons.

"Hey, Kat," he said, standing up and waving, as if she hadn't already spotted him. Steve felt a blush come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he probably looked right now, but it disappeared when Kat smiled at him broadly and waved back. When she reached him, he was surprised to see her lean in for an embrace. But he wasn't complaining once her arms were wrapped around his neck and his hand rested on the small of her back. It was enough to set his heart to racing.

"I'm so sorry," she continued as she pulled away and took the seat across from him. "I would have been here ten minutes ago, but the D Line was down; it just screwed everything up."

"Oh, it's okay," Steve reassured her, glancing furtively at his watch and seeing that it was only ten to 3. "I haven't been here very long anyways." It was a lie, but one he didn't feel bad about telling. He didn't want to seem desperate.

Kat was looking around them at the outdoor patio, and into the windows of the restaurant. "This is a cute place," she remarked. "Do you come here a lot?"

"It's a good place to come and think," he admitted sheepishly. "And the coffee's not half-bad." Steve noticed the blonde waitress coming back, carafe in hand.

"Hi," she said brightly, "what can I get for you?"

Kat looked up at her. "Oh, I'll just have a vanilla latte. Thanks." The waitress nodded and headed off towards the kitchen.

"Did you want anything to eat?" Steve asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure how first dates were supposed to go. "They've got a really good club sandwich."

"No thanks, I've got to cook dinner for my grandma in a couple of hours anyways; I'll eat with her." Steve didn't let himself get down. She was here, wasn't she? It was obvious she wanted to spend time with him. "So," she said slowly, raising her eyebrows in a playful manner, "do you live nearby?" Steve couldn't help but laugh at her impression of his blunder the first time they'd met.

"I live closer to Uptown and the Bronx, actually," he replied, fidgeting with his coffee mug again.

"Ooh, swanky," she remarked with a laugh.

"Uh, it really isn't." He thought of his run-down, one-bedroom apartment that S.H.I.E.L.D. paid for, allowing him some semblance of independence. In truth, it was a lot nicer than the apartment he and his mom had lived in down in Brooklyn, but he still felt out of place there. "But it's a roof over my head," he continued, smiling to try and lighten the mood a little bit.

"So, I guess you're not in the military anymore then?" she questioned, leaning her chin on her hand. "At least, it doesn't seem like you are."

"Oh, um—" What was he supposed to say? How could explain that his living expenses were paid entirely by a government agency? That would give rise to too many questions. "No," he said quickly, "no I'm a sort of contractor now, working private security." It was the quickest lie he could come up with. He'd heard a few S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents talking about doing the same thing the other day, just to pick up a little extra income on the side.

"Sounds exciting," Katherine beamed. The waitress came back with her latte then, setting it down on the table and questioning if they'd like anything else. Steve ordered a club sandwich, since his stomach was beginning to growl. "So," Kat continued, once the waitress was gone, "what branch were you in?"

Steve didn't really want to talk about his past, and especially not his military career. But he wasn't going to be rude and avoid her questions. This was a date, after all. And first dates were for getting to know the other person better. Too bad Steve couldn't tell her anything that was the truth. He doubted she'd believe him anyways.

"Army," he said after a brief silence, casting his eyes down at the table.

"So was my brother," she replied. Steve noticed a bit of the warmth was gone from her voice. He looked back up at her, and her grey-blue eyes had shifted away from him. He recognized that look immediately. "He was killed by an IED in Afghanistan three years ago."

"I'm so sorry," Steve said quietly, unsure of what else to say to that. The pain was clear on her face, and he wasn't going to do anything to further it.

"Thanks," she said, wiping at her eyes hastily. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Real great subject matter for a first date, huh?" She was laughing, but Steve could tell it was more of a nervous laughter now.

"It's okay, really," he reassured her. "I, uh... I know how you feel." This wasn't how he'd planned for their date to go. But, oddly enough, he felt more comfortable than he had at the start.

"Of course you do," she said with a sad smile. "I can't imagine what it was like for you guys over there. Jackson didn't really like to talk about it too much; he always wanted to know what was new with us back home, rather than describe the Hell he was in. I guess he thought if he didn't talk about it, we wouldn't know the truth." She shrugged slightly to signify the end of her thought. "I'm really sorry, Steve. Let's talk about something else."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Because all he could think about right now was Bucky, replaying over and over again the moment he'd fallen from that train. There was a lump rising in his throat, one that he didn't know if he could swallow down. Luckily, the waitress returned with his sandwich so he could take a minute to compose himself. He took a few bites of the sandwich, one hand clenched in a fist next to the plate.

"Steve?" Katherine's hand was suddenly laying on top of his fist, radiating warmth and softness that cut through him like a knife through butter. He put the sandwich down and looked to find her face full of concern. "Oh God, I've ruined everything, haven't I? I'm so sorry. Sometimes, I just speak without thinking. No seriously, I don't have a filter at all, it's like—"

"Kat," Steve cut her off, not unkindly, "it's okay. I just... it hasn't been easy, adjusting to civilian life. War... well, it changes you. I don't think I have to tell you that, though." He paused here, chewing on his words and figuring out how best to say them. "The thing is, when I went down to the park in Brooklyn, I was looking for a piece of myself that I've lost. And then... and then I found you." Slowly, Kat sat back in her chair, removing her hand from on top of his. "The people that I'm around at... _work_ all know about what I went through, in the war. They walk on eggshells around me, and, to be honest, I really hate it. You were the first person in a long time to talk to me like I was just some regular guy. Even after you knew I'd been a soldier, it didn't seem to matter."

"Well, you are a normal guy, aren't you?" Her gaze was a little wary, but he decided to press on.

"I want to believe that I can get back to the guy I used to be," he said slowly, "but I don't know how easy it's going to be. And, with everything that's going on with me right now—" he paused to try and voice his thoughts without coming off like a jerk "—I don't know if I'm willing to drag you into it."

He chanced a look up at her, but Kat was still looking at him with that appraising look she'd held the first time they met; like she was studying him, much the way he'd been studying that monument. "Can I tell you something?" she suddenly asked. He nodded quickly with an uncertain stare. "I'll be honest, Steve. I don't normally walk up to total strangers that I meet in the park. But there was something about you that made me want to find out more about you. And after talking to you now... I think what you need is a friend."

"A...a friend?" Steve was somewhat at a loss for words. That wasn't at all what he'd been expecting for her to say.

"Yeah, a friend. Someone to just be around, without any weight or expectation. You seem—" she shrugged and looked at the sky "—you seem very lonely, Steve. And I'd like to help, in whatever way I can. And I think I can do the most good by just being your friend."

"You...you want to be my friend?"

"Yeah, I do." She smiled that same, brilliant smile and Steve could practically feel his heart melting. "You're a really nice guy, Steve," she continued. "You're somebody I'd like to be friends with. There's no pressure, I just want you to know that I'm here to talk or if you ever feel like just getting out of the house."

"I don't know what to say," he replied with a sheepish smile, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Just think about it." She took several long, slow sips of her latte while Steve just gazed in wonderment.

How had this girl just stumbled into his life? One minute, he felt like a boat adrift at sea, lost and utterly empty inside. Now she was sitting in front of him, offering nothing more than her time and friendship, like a life preserver made just for him. It was hard to believe he'd met her only a few days ago. Already it felt like an entire lifetime had passed, if only because his life had shifted so completely.

For the next hour, they sat there and just talked, of everything under the sun. When the subject matter came too close to revealing a piece of his past he wanted to keep hidden, Kat was gracious enough to notice and move on without any fuss. It was simple, talking to her; as natural as breathing or sleeping. She was funny, and so full of knowledge. Most of the things she spoke of, Steve didn't have a clue about. But it was enough for him just to listen to her talk. Her voice was like a warm blanket being wrapped around him, enveloping him in comfort. When he was sick as a kid, his mom used to hang the blankets on a line in front of the fire, letting them get toasty and then wrapping him up to drive away the chill. Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable with Kat.

She felt like home.


	3. Holding Back

"No, no, you aren't holding it right. Here, let me show you." Steve watched as Kat bounded over to him, reaching for the miniature golf club he held in his hands. "See," she continued, leaning over and tightening her grip on the handle, "you have to layer your hands over each other, and make sure you bend your elbows. If you keep your arms locked, you'll never get a hole in one." With a laugh, she handed the club back over.

"Have I told you I've never played mini-golf before?" Steve asked jokingly. "Or even normal golf, for that matter."

"Only about a hundred times. Now quit your whining and hit that ball. I will not be able to forgive myself if you don't make at least one hole under par," she replied, one hand on her hip and the other resting atop her pink club.

It had been almost a month since Kat had come into his life, and Steve couldn't remember a time when he'd had so much fun. They saw one another at least once a week, but most weeks it was more than that. Steve wished he could see her everyday, but with Kat's schooling and taking care of her grandmother, that was kind of impossible.

She had taken him to several of the museums around the city, which he'd found incredibly enjoyable. It was a good way to get caught up on the years he had missed, and learn a lot of things he'd never learned before. Whatever subject they were talking about, Kat seemed to have a wellspring of knowledge about it all. From baseball to military strategy to cooking techniques, it didn't seem to matter. He wondered sometimes where all this knowledge came from, but he never asked. That would have been considered rude in his day; he couldn't imagine it would be much different now.

Steve smacked the little neon green ball at his feet, watching it sail over the green turf and bounce off the fake rock border. It was only the 3rd hole on the course, so nothing terribly difficult, but his ball still missed the hole by about two feet. He heaved a dramatic sigh and stalked over to where it had landed.

"Now just hit it gently," Kat instructed from where she stood across from him. She'd already taken her turn at this hole, and had showed him up spectacularly with a hole-in-one. He tried to do as she said, but the ball only moved a couple of inches before coming to a stop. "Okay, maybe a little harder than that." She was laughing good-naturedly, but Steve still felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He was holding back as much as he could, even though he knew he could snap the metal club in half if he'd wanted to. He imagined he looked ridiculous right now, but Kat was having a good time. That's all that mattered.

When they finally finished with the 18th hole, Steve was disappointed to see his score sheet. Kat had finished at an impressive ten under par, while Steve had finished at twenty over. Just another thing to add to his list, he supposed.

"Well that was fun," Kat announced as they turned their clubs back in at the check in desk.

"Yeah, because you won," he teased.

"Eh, it's not much to brag about. Just wait til we go race go-karts, then I'm really gonna rub it in your face!" Kat jogged a little ways ahead of him along the pier. The mini-golf place they'd come to was situated right on the banks of the river, and there was a cool April breeze coming off of it. The air smelled of brackish water and popcorn, something Steve could mark down as familiar. He remember going to Coney Island as a kid, with Bucky and his family. It had been the most amazing thing. This pier smelled just like it. Kat had tried to convince him to go out to the island already, but he was putting it off. Too many painful memories.

Steve followed behind her down the pier, til they were standing right at the very end. He looked to his left, down the Hudson as it flowed into the bay. From here, he could just barely make out the Statue of Liberty on Liberty Island. The sun was setting in front of them, casting a warm orange glow over the whole city as it prepared for the Friday night buzz. Steve drew in his breath slowly as he surveyed the peaceful scene in front of him.

Kat was standing on the railing at his right, peeking out over the edge as far as she could without falling. The wind whipped at her long, dark hair where it fell about her face. She was smiling widely, as she normally was, but there was something different in the way the light was hitting her face. He wished he could hold on to this moment forever; Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.

No... that wasn't quite right. He did remember, but it was too painful to recall right now. He was trying to stay positive and enjoy the time he was spending with Kat, but there was always a little voice nagging at the back of his head. He'd been in love before; this felt too similar for his liking. Peggy was still alive after all. It felt somehow like betraying her, in a way. They'd missed out on the life they could have—should have—had. Could he really move on so quickly?

"Steve? Have you heard a word I've said?" Kat's voice brought him slowly out of the haze of his thoughts. He shook his head slightly, adding a sheepish grin in lieu of an apology. "I asked if you wanted to head down to Brooklyn for dinner. There's this cute little 50s style diner I found last week. I think you'd like it."

"Oh, don't you have to be getting back to your grandma?" he asked, gripping the pier railing tightly.

Kat shook her head, making her hair bounce wildly. "Nope, my mom is with her tonight. They made an outing to the Met, if you can believe it. My grandma doesn't leave the house much, but apparently she's got the hots for Jonas Kauffman, and he's singing in _Parsifal_ tonight. My mom was able to snag tickets last minute. She asked if I wanted to go, but I'm not a _huge_ fan of opera."

"Oh? I would have pegged you for a classical music lover," Steve teased.

"Don't get me wrong, I like it, but I prefer the ballet." She stuck her tongue out for effect, which Steve found completely adorable. "And anyways, Nana is with me practically all the time. It's good for her to go out with my mom sometimes. They don't get to spend as much time together as either of them would like."

"Well," he said slowly, "in that case, dinner in Brooklyn sounds lovely." Kat beamed widely, jumping backwards off the railing and beckoning Steve to follow after her. He did so without hesitation, smiling at her enthusiasm. It was contagious, watching her be so happy. He wondered where it came from; if she just naturally had a joy for life, or if she'd had to work at it. The only time he'd ever seen her close to being upset was when they'd spoken briefly about her brother. She hadn't brought it up again, and Steve didn't want to go back down that road either. But Kat just seemed always to be in a good mood.

It was good for him, being around her. Even though it had only been a month, he could already tell a shift in his attitude and outlook. Whereas before, he dreaded each day with the sort of melancholy that a terminally ill patient would, now he looked forward to getting up in the morning. They would talk throughout the day—he'd already gotten better at texting, though it was still sometimes difficult—and were always planning their next adventure. Steve had also joined a gym not too far from his apartment. It wasn't anything spectacular, but it had a punching bag that he liked to pound on every so often. It helped burn off some of his lingering frustration, like when he didn't know how to operate a certain piece of technology, or when Kat said something that he didn't quite understand.

He was learning that conversational speech in this day and age consisted of a lot of pop culture references, which of course he was terrible at. There was a lot he had missed out on in the last seventy years, so he'd started keeping a list in a small notebook he carried around with him. Whenever something stumped him, he wrote it down to find out more later, without ever letting Kat see what he was doing. Dr. Singer was especially helpful with his research, but then, she was familiar with his situation. If Kat ever found out about the list, and what it truly meant... Well, he didn't want to think about that right now.

Right now, he was getting ready to get on the subway to Brooklyn, to have dinner with a beautiful girl. Everything else could wait til later.

 

* * *

 

The diner was, as Kat had told him, done up completely in the style of the 50s. Which, of course, Steve had skipped over completely. There were pictures of actors and actresses and cars and motorcycles and teenagers in poodle skirts all over the place, but it all felt so foreign to Steve. There was one picture of a handsome singer with jet black hair—somebody Presley, he thought it might be—that he recognized, but other than that, he was lost.

Kat seemed to be in her element though. As they sat in the shiny blue booth, waiting for one of the waitresses to bring them menus, she started telling him little trivia facts about the people in the photos. He was once again completely floored by the amount of knowledge she possessed. Even though he'd held off on asking her before, it was getting to the point where his curiosity was getting the better of him.

She'd just finished telling him an amusing story about someone named Bobby Darin when he couldn't take it anymore. "Kat," he said quickly, "do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Of course not, Steve," she smiled. "You know me."

He chewed at his lip for a minute, wondering if he should continue. "Well, it's just," he began slowly, "I was just wondering how you knew all of this stuff. It doesn't seem to matter what we're talking about, you always have all these little facts under your belt."

"Oh, is that all? Well, my grandfather was actually a Professor of American History, which is where I got my love of historical research from," she explained excitedly. "He had collected hundreds of books over his teaching career, and kept them all in the library at my grandmother's house. I used to spend hours in there as a kid, and I do even now, just reading all the books I could get my hands on. And—" here, she gave a little shrug "—Nana likes to watch _Jeopardy_." Steve knew what _Jeopardy_ was, since the cable at his apartment only had ten channels and it was on every weeknight.

"Your grandfather sounds like an incredible man," Steve remarked with a smile.

"He was," she replied. The waitress came then with their menus and took their drink order, before leaving them to look over all the options.

"So what's good here?" Steve asked, skimming the words on the laminated page quickly.

Kat giggled in amusement. "It's a burger joint, Steve. The burgers are good. They also have really yummy sundaes, but I'm guessing you want non-dessert suggestions."

"That would be preferred," he quipped back. "How's this Monster Burger?" His question was met with a few moments of silence, and when he looked up from the menu, Steve was met with Kat's wide-eyed stare. "What?"

"That's six patties," she said quickly, still gazing at him in surprise. "It's for those professional eater guys, ya know like Man vs. Food?" Steve didn't have the slightest clue, but he nodded anyways. "You have to eat it in 30 minutes, it's like a challenge."

"Oh, I see," he said happily. "Do you get anything if you eat it in the time limit?"

"Uh, I think you get a t-shirt and your picture on the Wall of Fame. Plus the meal is free." She pointed to a bulletin board behind him, full of photos.

"Sounds fun," he said. When he told the waitress what he wanted, her eyes got wide just like Kat's, staring him up and down.

"Really?" she questioned. He nodded and smiled politely while she called back to the kitchen. Apparently, they needed to get a head start. Kat ordered her meal and the waitress left, still carrying that dumbfounded look.

Steve looked back over at Kat, who was eyeing him in amusement. He shrugged lightly and said, "I didn't have breakfast."

"I guess not," she said with a wry smile.

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with their orders, giving Steve a particularly wide smile when she laid down the plate with the massive burger piled high with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. "Alright, big boy," she purred, "you've got 30 minutes. Better eat up." She gave a small wink before returning to the counter.

"I can't believe you're really going to eat that monstrosity," Kat said with a slight chuckle, shaking her head as she dug into her own meal.

Steve just shrugged his shoulders and got to work, opting for a fork and knife since it was covered in ketchup and mayo. He started by separating the patties, leaving only one with all the vegetables piled in between the bread. After he wolfed the single burger down, he got to work on the 5 other patties, setting himself what he thought was a reasonable pace. With his boosted metabolism, he was able to eat things much faster, and much larger, than the average person.

When the waitress came back, he was down to only two patties. "Alright, you've got fifteen minutes—Holy crap! You're almost finished!" she exclaimed.

Steve looked up at her with a wide grin. "Yeah, and I'd like to order two chili dogs as well, if you don't mind," he said, gaining a dumbfounded look from the waitress and Kat alike. The poor girl just nodded and scuttled back to the kitchen, whispering excitedly to all her coworkers as she went.

He finished the last two patties within five minutes, and then gobbled down the hot dogs in the same amount of time. Several of the other workers from the diner came over and congratulated him, saying they'd never seen someone finish the challenge in that amount of time. The manager came over afterwards with his free t-shirt, and snapped a quick picture that would go up on the Wall of Fame.

Once all the excitement had died down, Steve thought he probably should have felt proud. But he'd eaten two large-sized pizzas by himself in one sitting before, so this wasn't all that much to brag about.

"I have never seen someone eat so much in one sitting in my life," Kat laughed at him, finishing up her own meal. "And I thought my brother was a huge eater." Steve shrugged slightly with a sheepish grin.

"I told you I didn't eat any breakfast." Kat contorted her mouth in an effort not to smile, but it didn't work. She laughed at him gleefully as she grabbed the ticket their waitress had left.

"Come on, let's get out of here," she said, heading towards the counter. Steve offered to pay for her meal, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You escorting me home is payment enough," she argued, which Steve couldn't disagree with. When the ticket was paid, they made their way out of the diner, and into the bustling nightlife waiting outside. "Home is only a few blocks away. Wanna just walk?"

It wasn't like they were in a _bad_ part of town, but it still made Steve a little nervous to be out walking after dark. Maybe that was just a lingering from when he was a kid, and he could hardly go out in the daytime without getting harassed, let alone the nighttime. As it stood, Kat seemed relaxed and confident, so he agreed. But he still stood a little closer to her than he normally would, just in case.

As they walked, Steve was content to listen to Kat tell him all about the different churches and buildings they passed by. This area was so rich in history, some of which he even knew. It was so obvious to him that this was where her passion was, talking about the history of the place she called home. He watched her as she explained, the way her eyes lit up and she smiled without even thinking about it. She was completely captivating.

But as much as Steve loved spending time with her and talking to her, there was still that ever-present hesitation that getting involved with someone romantically wasn't a good idea. He had no idea what the future held for him; could he really drag Kat down that road of uncertainty with him? Was he doomed to remain a relic of days gone by, stuck in a time where he didn't belong? Or was there some purpose he had yet to fulfill? Steve didn't really know, and every time he tried to think about it, it made his head hurt. It was easier to pretend he belonged; to go on spending time with Kat while still keeping her at arm's length.

They reached the steps of her grandmother's brownstone within twenty minutes, and Steve was prepared to catch a taxi back to the Bronx. But Kat stopped at the landing and turned to look back at him.

"You wanna come in for some coffee or something?" she offered, motioning to the front door.

Steve hedged for only a moment. Even though it might have been a bad idea, he knew what he wanted. "Yeah, I'd love to," he said with a smile, bounding up the few steps to the landing. Kat fumbled with her keys for a moment before unlocking the door and letting him into the foyer. As soon as they stepped inside, Steve was taken aback with how beautiful everything was.

The high-ceilinged foyer was large enough to hold a small table and some chairs, opening up into a long hallway where he could see the kitchen at the far end. There was a staircase on the right-hand side, just beyond a doorway that opened to a sitting room. Across from the sitting room was another opening, where he could see a formal dining room with a huge table that could probably seat about twelve people.

He followed Kat down the wood-floored hallway, realizing she was pulling away from him as he gawked. They passed an entrance on the left to another living room that was open to the kitchen, but Kat was headed straight down the hall. Steve was even more impressed with the kitchen, which was decked out in silver appliances and granite countertops.

"Nice place," he remarked quietly as Kat got to work on making the coffee.

"Thanks," she replied brightly, reaching up into one of the upper cabinets on her tippy-toes. "Grandpa wrote some bestsellers, about his travels all over the world. But Nana was actually a famous singer back in her day."

"Oh really?" Steve asked interestedly. "Anyone I'd know?" He knew there wasn't a chance in hell he knew, but it showed his interest.

"Doubt it," she quipped back. "You don't seem like you're into opera." She threw him a wink over her shoulder as she scooped the grounds into the filter at the top of the coffee machine. Steve felt the blood rushing to his face, but she was right after all.

"That must have been exciting," he remarked.

"It was for a time," Kat said, a little sadly. "Eventually though, all of my grandfather's travelling in addition to her own began to wear on their marriage. It was especially difficult for my mom and my uncle. Until they were teenagers, they were raised almost entirely by my great-Aunt Mary, Nana's sister. It made for a lot of tension between them all, especially my mom and Nana. But they're doing a lot better now."

"And your grandpa?" Steve wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask, but he was interested nonetheless.

Kat finished up with the coffee and hit the "start" button. The little machine whirred to life and began heating the water. She motioned for him to follow her to the living room, where the sat on a plush, sectional sofa.

"Well, Grandpa was extremely dedicated to his work. There was never a time that he wasn't working on some project or his next book. Eventually he just sorta moved into his office on campus while Nana kept living here. I don't think they ever stopped loving one another, but they figured out it was better for them to live apart." Kat curled her legs underneath her, staring at the floor with a far-off look.

"Is he passed?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, ten years ago." Steve didn't want to press anymore, so he let the subject drop, preferring to sit in comfortable silence until the coffee was ready. Kat got two cups down for them from the cabinet, and some cream from the fridge. It was funny to Steve that they took their coffee the same way, but he didn't mention it.

They were about halfway through their cups when Kat's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey," she said happily, "you wanna see some pictures? There's a bunch of old photos of Nana when she was touring in the study upstairs."

"I'd love to," he said happily, following behind her as she led them up the stairs. Steve noticed that the upstairs was just as grand and impressive as the downstairs, but he made sure not to gawk this time. They passed a couple of bedrooms on their way to the very back of the house, where a huge oak door opened to an enormous study.

There was a mahogany desk on one end, and the wall across from them was a carved bookcase, filled to bursting with books of every size and color. Steve wasn't much for reading, but he had to admit it was an impressive collection. On the wall to their right was a huge, ornate fireplace with a marble mantle filled with pictures in frames. All over the walls were framed playbills and portraits of a striking young woman in a myriad of evening gowns. Steve guessed this must be Nana.

"Wow, she's beautiful," Steve said, letting his eyes roam over the display in front of him.

"And she sings like an angel," Kat said with a warm smile. "We've got some recordings around here, I'll let you listen sometime, but only when Nana isn't around. She's a bit shy about her past."

Steve raised his eyebrows a bit. "Really? I would never have known based off this display," he laughed.

"Believe me, Nana would tan my hide if she knew I brought you up here." Kat stepped towards the mantle. "Oh," she exclaimed, "here's a good one." She picked up a silver gilt frame and handed it over to Steve. "That's when she was Charlotte in _Werther_ at the Met. I think she was around 25, so... 1952? Yeah, that's right." In the black and white photo, Kat's grandmother stood at the edge of the stage, lit up by the spotlight and mouth opened wide in a soundless note.

"That's incredible," Steve muttered, putting the frame gingerly back on the mantle.

"And this one—" Kat reached for a smaller, wooden frame "—is my mom and my Uncle Joe with Nana, at Coney Island." The color photo was worn with age, but the smiles on the two children's faces were clear as day. The wind was tossing their hair around, and Kat's mom was holding a huge spool of pink cotton candy. They all looked so happy, and it made Steve's chest ache a little bit. Even though their family had a rocky past, they were still a family.

Steve put the frame back on the mantle, perusing some of the other photos. Most of them were black and white, with some color photos mixed in there. A lot of them showed Kat's grandma as a young woman, either on the stage or with her family. There were a few that were obviously more recent, with one that he assumed was probably from her last birthday. Time had changed her face, but the eyes were still the same.

At the far end of the mantle was a simple-looking frame holding a black and white picture. Steve smiled as he looked at the young girl in a white frock and black boots, sitting on a front porch step with a few other children. The date in the bottom right-hand corner read ' _September 12th, 1934_ ' in a flowing script. And as Steve's eyes roamed over the picture, his heart suddenly stopped. Time slowed to a near halt and it felt like there was a weight sitting on top of his chest. His hands began to shake, and it did not escape Kat's notice.

"Steve, are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on his broad shoulder. But he couldn't say anything; it seemed he'd lost the power of speech. Those eyes were so familiar to him, and that face...

He would have recognized that face anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup that's all for now! I know, I know... All will be revealed in the next chapter. ;) Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!


	4. A Man Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I know a lot of y'all are not too happy with me after the way I left that last chapter. But guess what?... We're gonna find out right now! Okay, let's go!

Steve's hands were shaking as they held the picture frame, gripping it so tight he was afraid he'd snap it in two. His palms were sweaty, and his heart was racing like he'd just run ten miles. "Kat..." His voice sounded weak and feeble. "Kat, who is this man?" Steve knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who it was, but he needed to know who was _to her._

Kat leaned around his shoulder to look at the photo. "Oh," she said softly, gazing at the black and white picture, "that's my Uncle Bucky, Nana's brother. He was killed in WWII, so I never got to meet him." Steve closed his eyes, still holding onto the picture. There was a mounting pressure right behind his eyes, making his head ache painfully.

_Now it all made sense._

"I'm sorry," he muttered, placing the frame back on the mantle. Bucky's face smiled back at him, hair falling into his eyes and shoulders relaxed in an easygoing manner. He wouldn't have been more than seventeen there, but Steve knew his face. Three younger girls, his sisters, sat next to him on the front porch of a small house. He knew exactly when and where this had been taken.

"Steve, are you alright?" Kat asked slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You don't look so good."

What could he say? How could he... No, he had to get out of here, right now. "I'm sorry, Kat, I've got to go." He turned quickly and practically ran out of the study. Steve knew it was incredibly rude, but right now he didn't give a damn.

"Steve, wait!" she called after him. "Please just talk to me! Don't go!" Kat was racing down the stairs behind him, trying to catch up. But he was too quick. Within a few seconds, he had a hand on the door, ready to wrench it open and put this place far behind him. He didn't know what the hell he would do tomorrow, but right now, he needed to leave. When he did open the door, he was met with a chorus of surprised gasps and shrieks.

"My goodness!" a woman's voice said. Steve froze on the threshold, unable to move or speak. "Young man, what on earth are you doing in my mother's house?"

"Mom!" Kat yelled from behind him. She ducked under his arm where it was holding the door open. "What are you doing home so early? I thought the opera wasn't over til 10."

"Yes, well your grandmother wasn't feeling well so we left at intermission," her mother replied, quickly returning her gaze to Steve's frozen form. Nana stood next to Kat's mother, clutching her purse and looking at everyone in an amused sort of way.

"Mom, Nana, this is my friend, Steve," Kat explained hastily, out of breath. "The one I was telling you about." Steve had enough presence of mind to nod his head in greeting, though his heart still felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.

"Well, make way young man," Nana suddenly exclaimed, motioning with her cane for him to get out of the doorway. "You'll let the cats in if you keep that door open any longer." Steve wondered idly what she meant by that, but he moved out of the way nonetheless. The old woman scuttled past him with surprising speed, and Kat's mother followed quickly behind.

Kat turned to him after shutting the door and reached for his hand. "Please don't go," she whispered, giving his hand a light squeeze. "Just talk to me, Steve."

"Kat—" There was no way he could stay here. Bucky's little sister was sitting in the next room; hopefully she hadn't recognized him, but he wasn't going to take that chance.

"Steven Rogers," Nana called from the other room, "don't think you're going to leave without having a cup of tea with me." Steve froze once more; well, there goes that idea.

"Oh, Mom, leave Kat's friend alone," he heard Kat's mother say quietly.

"Um, Steve?" Kat asked tentatively, drawing his attention away from the kitchen. "I never told my grandma your last name. You wanna tell me how she knows it?"

"Not really," he whispered back, his face set into a worried mask. Kat raised one eyebrow above the other and opened her mouth to say something, but she never got the chance.

"Steve?" Kat's mother was standing in the hallway, just outside the kitchen. "I really do hate to be a bother, but Nana is insisting. She can be a bit _cantankerous_ sometimes, and I'd surely appreciate it." She gave him an apologetic smile and folded her hands over her chest.

Steve gritted his teeth against every instinct in his body that was telling him to run. He guessed it was too late now; he'd been recognized, and it was time to face the music.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Winters," he replied, leaving Kat standing by the door and heading down the hall.

"Oh please," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "call me Anna." Steve smiled as convincingly as he could and followed her to the living room where he'd sat with Kat not half an hour ago. Had so little time passed? It felt like hours.

He sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, listening to the sounds of Kat's grandma rustling around in the kitchen. Which sister was it? They'd all been so young the last time he saw them, it was hard to remember. Kat had mentioned her great-Aunt Mary, so this had to be either Rebecca or Edith.

What were the odds? He'd made a trip down to Brooklyn and just _happened_ to meet Bucky's great-niece? It sounded crazy, even just in his head. Although, he guessed crazier things had happened.

"Do you still take it with cream?" he heard the old woman call from the kitchen.

"Mom, what are you talking about?" Mrs. Winters asked in concern.

"Just cream is fine, ma'am," Steve called back nervously. Kat came into the room soon after and sat next to him on the couch, though she kept a distance between them. A few moments of silence later, he heard the kettle boil and then the clinking of china. Mrs. Winters entered the room with a tea tray only a second after that. "Thank you," he said when she handed him his cup. The china was dainty, with little roses and vines painted in pastels all along the rim. He just hoped that, in his nervous state, he didn't break it.

Kat sipped at her own tea quietly, giving him a hefty dose of side-eye. He did his best to ignore her; she'd find out soon enough, and then all the apologetic looks in the world wouldn't be able to save him. Nana entered the room and shuffled across the hardwood floors to a red wing-backed chair that Steve guessed was her favorite sitting spot. When she was settled, everyone waited in expectant silence.

"So," Nana said, clearing her throat loudly, "I suppose you don't remember me."

"You know who I am?" he asked quietly, and he could feel Kat growing tense at his side.

"Yes, Steve," she chided irritably. "I may be eighty-five, but I'm not dead." So this was Edith then, Bucky's youngest sister. Steve could see it now, even though she'd been a teenager the last time he'd laid eyes on her. Her eyes hadn't changed in nearly seventy years; still full of life, and feisty as ever.

"Mom, I don't understand," Anna said with a note of concern, leaning towards her mother and giving her a worried look.

"Nor do I," she exclaimed. "I'm waiting on Steve to explain himself." She stared at him pointedly, and he had to fight the urge to smile. Same old Edith. She'd always been a feisty one. And now that he thought about it, Kat was so much like her it was scary.

"You sure you want to hear it?" he asked slowly. The old woman nodded.

"Steve?" It was Kat who spoke now. She'd been quiet for so long, Steve had begun to think she wouldn't say anything at all. He turned to look at her questioning gaze.

"I used to know your grandmother, Kat," he explained softly. "But it was a long time ago, and I'm not sure you'll believe me if I tell you how." She didn't say anything, only continued to stare with those grey-blue eyes he'd always found familiar. Now he knew why.

"By my reckoning," Edith said, drawing his attention away, "you should be about ninety-five years old, shouldn't you? You're a little taller than the last time I saw you, but you don't look a day over _twenty_ -five."

Mrs. Winters made to say something but Steve stopped her by holding up his hand. She gave him a look of slight annoyance, but she held her tongue all the same. "I'll tell you everything," he said quietly, seeing no point in concealing the truth now, "but you have to promise to keep your questions til I'm through." Edith nodded with an impatient wave of her hand, while Mrs. Winters and Kat just stared at him.

_Here goes nothin'._

He took a deep breath, furrowed his brow, and then began to speak. He started at the beginning, telling them all about how he was born on the 4th of July, 1918; how he'd been sick a lot as a baby, and that had affected his growth and development; how Bucky had befriended him and tried to take care of him after his mom died, which Edith already knew. Then came the difficult part: explaining everything that had happened with Dr. Erskine and the serum. Each of their faces carried a mask of confusion throughout his explanation, and those questioning looks never really went away.

As he talked, Steve found that he couldn't bring himself to look at Kat, even though he could feel her eyes on him the entire time. It was too painful, and he didn't want to see the hurt or accusation in her eyes.

"When I woke up from the ice about seven months ago, I was obviously very confused," he continued, surging ahead without stopping. "They told me the ice had preserved my body in a perfect cryogenic state. I don't know how it's possible, but here I am." Finally, he turned to look at Kat. "This should explain some of my... _oddities."_

"It does," she said softly with a nod.

"That sounds impossible," Mrs. Winters scoffed, placing her cup and saucer on the coffee table.

"Im _probable_ , Anna dear," Edith cut in. "It's clearly not im _possible_ , considering the young man that sits in front of us."

"Oh mother," she replied dismissively, "how can you be sure this man doesn't just look very much like the man you knew? And that he's not making the whole thing up?"

"Steve," Nana said to him, ignoring her daughter's pointed gaze, "when I was eight years old, I was being teased by some of the neighborhood boys. You stepped in and told them all to leave me alone. Do you remember that?"

He was increasingly amused by this old woman he'd known a lifetime ago; her memory was sharp as a tack. "Yeah, I remember," he said with a slight chuckle.

"You were going to walk me back to the house," she continued, "when one of the boys threw a rock at your head. It struck you, right here—" she motioned right behind her left ear "—and I do believe it left you with a scar."

He smirked and angled his head slightly, pushing some of his hair out of the way so they could all see the small, white scar that was hidden there. The story she'd told was true, and the shock on Mrs. Winters' face was priceless.

"But Bucky beat the tar outta them after that, so it worked out," he chuckled. Edith gave him a knowing smile before turning her triumphant gaze on her daughter. As for Anna, she clamped her mouth shut and just gazed at Steve in awestruck wonder.

Suddenly, he heard Kat stand up next to him. "I can't do this," she said quietly, before hurrying from the room and retreating upstairs. Steve made to go after her, but the sound of Edith's voice made him stop.

"Best to leave her, Steve," she said comfortingly. "This must be quite a shock. After living eighty-five years, I've seen my fair share of strangeness. But Kat, she's young; it will take time."

There were so many things he wanted to say coursing through his head, but Steve let them all fade away. It could wait, for now. Edith was right. Kat needed time to digest this, though he was surprised that Edith seemed so willing to accept it as truth. He'd have to question her about that later, but for now, he had some digesting of his own to do.

"I really should go now," he said, making his way towards the hall. "Please tell Kat that... just tell her I'm sorry, and that I'll talk to her later." Edith nodded slightly and then he hurried out of the house as fast as he could. Once he was back to the main road, he stopped and leaned up against the brick side of an office building. That's when he let the tears of anger, sadness, and frustration he'd held in for the last hour come pouring out.

 

* * *

 

"How could you not tell me?" Steve growled into the phone. He hadn't slept a wink the night before, and once he figured it was late enough to call without seeming rude, he'd dialed Director Fury's number.

"Tell you what?" Fury's uninterested voice droned from the other end of the line.

"I know you and your S.H.I.E.L.D. flunkies keep tabs on me," he bit out. "I have a hard time believing you didn't know my friend is a relative of someone I knew before... you know what." He realized his voice had risen to an alarming level, and the walls in his apartment were thin.

Fury sighed deeply and then there was a pause. "Believe it or not, Captain Rogers," he finally said, "we do not keep tabs on _every_ aspect of your life. This just slipped through the cracks. I apologize."

Well, that had been more than he was expecting. He rolled his shoulders to release some of the tension and then cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks, I appreciate that."

"I hope you realize, however," Fury continued tersely, "that your identity is classified information. If this young lady and her family are aware of who you are, I suggest you make it clear to them that S.H.I.E.L.D. will take any necessary actions if your identity is compromised."

Steve drew in his breath slowly. "Understood," he replied quietly, and then he hung up the call. His anger was still boiling, and he had no desire to talk with that man anymore.

His life was just starting to gain some semblance of normalcy, but now everything was spiraling out of control again. How could this have happened? The odds of meeting someone who knew him were slim to none. Yet it had happened completely by accident. And now Kat knew his secret.

Steve checked his phone for any messages or missed calls from her. _Nothing._

He didn't expect it, but he could hope. The look in her eyes as he'd told his secret had been painful, but a part of him was glad everything was out in the open now. He didn't have to hide from her anymore. There'd been so many times he'd wanted to tell her, each of them planned out a lot better than the catastrophe that had happened the night before, but the timing had never seemed right. Now she knew, and he had no idea how she felt about it. That part nagged at him the most.

What was she thinking? How was she handling the bombshell he'd dropped on her? He was itching to talk to her, but Edith's words rang in his head. ' _Give her time...'_ So that's what he would do; he'd give her all the time she needed.

Almost uncannily, his phone began to buzz in his hand, and he looked down at the screen to see Kat's smiling face. She'd programmed the phone to show her picture every time she called, which set his heart to racing each time she did. This time, it seemed to be racing more than normal.

"Kat," he answered the phone breathlessly.

"Sorry to disappoint you," the voice said.

"Oh, Edith," Steve replied, trying to contain his mix of surprise and disappointment. "How did you—?"

"I stole it while she was in the shower," the old woman explained with a chuckle. "I want to invite you for some tea this afternoon. You and I have a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh, I um—"

"Come now, don't tease an old woman." Steve had to laugh at her joking manner, which set her to laughing as well. "I'll expect you at, shall we say, 3 o'clock?" she continued. "Now don't be late."

"I'll be there," he assured her. She bid him farewell and then hung up. Steve lowered the phone and stared at it in his lap. Today was going to be an interesting day.

 

* * *

 

Steve stood on the porch landing for a good couple minutes after he'd knocked at the door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. Finally, the large oak door swung open and there Edith stood, a tiny ball of seemingly unending energy.

"Welcome back, Steve," she smiled, swinging the door open all the way to allow him to enter. He nodded at her and closed the door behind him, then followed her down the hall back into the living room where they'd all spoken the night before.

He looked around expectantly. "Is, uh—?"

"No, Kat isn't here. She's at class until 5, so we've got some time to chat, you and I," Edith explained, bustling over to her chair and taking a seat. She motioned to the seat that Kat's mother had occupied last night, and Steve gingerly sat down. The tea tray was already placed on the coffee table, doctored up and ready to be served. He bent forward and retrieved the cup he guessed was for him, and handed the other to the old woman across from him.

"So," he began slowly, "how did you know?" He figured he'd cut right to the chase, instead of dancing around the issue that hung between them.

She gave him a wry smile, before saying, "My memory's as sharp as ever, Steve. Would it surprise you to know that I was quite infatuated with you as a girl?" His eyebrows popped up in amusement, as well as a healthy dose of surprise.

"Well, that's uh..."

"I was so much younger than you, you never noticed," she continued, sipping idly at her tea. "But your eyes haven't changed, Steve, even though most of the rest of you has. They're still incredibly kind and caring." He looked away in embarrassment, but thanked her all the same.

"Tell me about you, Edith," he continued, trying to shift the focus off himself. It was starting to become uncomfortable.

She sighed heavily, the act making her whole body sag. Even though she had a young spirit, her body did not match the soul inside. "Not much to tell, really," she replied. "I assume you've seen the _display_ upstairs?" Steve nodded with a shrewd smile. "Well, it's all right there, hanging on the wall in true diva fashion."

"I don't believe that about you," Steve said earnestly. He paused for a moment, wondering if what he wanted to ask would be appropriate. But his curiosity won out in the end. "Edith," he continued, "would you tell me about your family? What happened to everyone?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask," she chuckled. "Well, I think Kat's probably told you all about me and her grandfather." Steve nodded to confirm her suspicion. "What else would you like to know?"

"Well," he started slowly, "what happened to everyone, I suppose."

"I see," she said knowingly. "Well, I'm the only one left. Papa died right before Anna was born, in '53, and then Mother passed in '65. Rebecca and Mary are both gone as well. Mary developed breast cancer, and that took her about fifteen years ago, and Rebecca passed in 2009. Their families visit often, which is nice. But I seem to be the matriarch of the Barnes legacy now. A task I am wholly unfit for." She gave a sad smile, and Steve suddenly felt sorry he'd asked. "Rebecca became a defense attorney for the state," she continued easily, "which she was splendid at, as I'm sure you can guess. She'd always been bossy." Edith gave him a wink.

"Yes, I remember that about her," he laughed quietly.

"Mary, on the other hand, became a school teacher. She and her husband never had any children of their own, but she was satisfied with her students. They brought her joy, which is all that really matters, I guess. Not to mention, she cared for my own children for a time. I'm forever grateful to her for that..." The old woman trailed off, staring into space as she became lost in her own thoughts, remembering the sisters she'd lost.

"I'm so sorry, Edith," he said quietly, placing his empty cup on the tray. "Bucky would have been so proud of you, and your sisters." He reached over and put a comforting hand on her knee, hoping he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. She gave his hand a sympathetic pat and then smiled.

"Speaking of which," she continued, "there's something I'd like to show you, if you'll follow me upstairs." He helped her up out of the chair and then held out his arm for her to take as they climbed the stairs. For being eighty-five years old, Edith still moved about well enough. Once they were on the second level, they headed in the direction of the study where last night's fiasco had started.

They entered the study, and Steve had to physically stop himself from glancing at the mantle where the picture of Bucky still sat. Edith steered him towards the mahogany desk that faced the wall of her accomplishments, rifling through the top right-hand drawer and drawing out a long, slim box. It was covered in a black, velvety material, with silver around the edges.

Slowly, she popped open the box so that it stood open on its hinges. And inside were two medals, both of which were immediately identifiable to Steve. The one on the left was the Bronze Star, awarded to those who showed bravery and merit in battle. And the one on the right was the Purple Heart, given to those who were wounded or killed in battle. Resting above the two medals was a tattered and worn black-and-white photo, showing two young men smiling next to one another.

His breath hitched in his chest as he stared at the picture he'd never seen before. He and Bucky were standing outside an Army Field Station, with a table covered in a large map sat behind them. The inscription on the back read, "Capt. Steven Rogers & Sgt. James Barnes, January 5th, 1944." The memory of that day came back to him like it was yesterday. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the day itself, but it was so fresh in his mind. He suddenly felt very dizzy.

"These were given to us after the war," Edith said quietly, "after they told us Bucky was dead. We were told he died with honor—" she closed the black box quickly "—and I'd like to know if that's the truth."

Steve looked at her in silent contemplation. To him, Bucky had died only a year ago, but to Edith, it had been seventy years of wondering. "Edith," he said quietly, "Bucky was my best friend in the entire world. You know he was always trying to protect me, and he died doing the same thing. But I couldn't save him, Edith; when he needed me most, I failed him." The image of Bucky falling from that train flashed in his mind, making it hard to breathe through the pain.

The old woman reached over and grasped one of his hands in between her gnarled ones. "My brother loved you, Steve," she said quietly, gripping his hand with surprising strength. "If you say he died protecting you, then I know he didn't die in vain. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

Steve didn't know what to say, so he just nodded and gave a weak impression of a smile. It was the best he could do.

"You can keep that picture," she continued with a smile, "I've got plenty. Now—" she glanced at a small, wooden clock on the desk "—Miss Katherine will be home in the next hour. You're welcome to stay for dinner, if you think you're up for it."

"Thank you, Edith, but I should get going. If Kat hasn't reached out to me by now, then she's not ready to talk. I don't want to pressure her before she is." Edith smiled at him and reached up on her tippy-toes to pat him on the cheek.

"Always the gentleman, Steve. Very well, I won't badger you." She made her way out of the study, Steve following close behind so he could help her down the stairs. The old woman stopped at the front door and turned back to him. "Listen, Steve," she said, her tone suddenly serious, "I know it may seem like happenstance, but I believe everything happens for a reason. Don't let this hinder your friendship with Kat, or any future you _might_ have." There was a knowing look in the old woman's eyes that caused Steve to blush a little.

"I'm not ready to give up on our friendship," he assured her, "but it's not only up to me. It's up to Kat to decide if she's willing to forgive me for lying to her."

"She'll come 'round, I'll make sure of it." Edith gave him a little wink and then bid him farewell, watching him from the doorway until he made it to the end of the street. He gave one last wave over his shoulder before rounding the corner, feeling a little bit better than he had this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, that's all for now. Anyone surprised? Most of you guessed it was Peggy, so I hope the surprise was satisfying. Please review and let me know what you think!


	5. Pieces

_"You've reached Kat's voicemail. Sorry, I can't get to the phone right now. Leave a message after the beep!"_

Steve took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Hey, Kat, it's me... Steve... again. Listen, I know that you're probably pretty upset with me and all that but... I just really want to talk to you. No, I guess I _need_ to talk to you. I really think we can work this out if you just give me a chance to explain. Our r-... our friendship is really important to me, okay? Just please give me a call. Okay... bye."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up with a sigh, staring down at his feet for a few moments. Another two weeks had passed by, and still he'd heard nothing from Kat. Countless calls; numerous emails; a few texts here and there. All of it had amounted to nothing. They'd only been friends for a couple of months, but the loss felt just as real and visceral as if it had been years. Edith had assured him she would come around; now he was beginning to think that wasn't going to happen.

Steve looked at his surroundings, squinting his eyes against the sunlight reflecting off the lake. Over the past couple of weeks, he'd found some comfort in coming to Central Park and just walking the paths or sitting by himself for a while, maybe even sketching the other visitors of the park. He was lonely without Kat's electric presence there, but it was a hell of a lot better than moping around in his apartment day and night.

The bench he was currently occupying sat a few feet away from the lake, tucked behind some trees at a bend in the path. It was relatively secluded, which suited his needs just fine. The one person he wanted to find him probably wouldn't. Not here, anyways.

A couple of ducks lazily paddled by across the glimmering surface of the water. He'd been sketching them before he'd decided to give Kat another call, so he picked back up his pencil and returned his attention to the half-finished drawing. Doing something he was good at put his mind at ease, something he desperately needed right now.

Ten more minutes passed and the ducks paddled out of his sight, just after he'd finished his sketch. Suddenly, he felt a buzzing against his leg and heard the tell-tale chiming of his cell phone ringing. He grappled with it in his pocket for a moment before finally pulling it out and staring at the caller ID. Immediately, he hit the "accept" button on the screen.

"Kat?"

"Hey, Steve." She didn't sound like herself. There was a sadness in her voice he'd never heard before, not even when she'd spoken about her grandfather or her brother, Jackson.

"Hey, how are you? Um... thanks for calling me back."

"Yeah, I'm sorry it's taken me this long," she replied quietly. He heard some shuffling on the other end—maybe papers?—and then she cleared her throat. "Steve, can we talk? About... well, about what happened at my grandmother's house?"

"Yes, absolutely," he replied quickly; hopefully. "I just want you to know that I never—"

"No, no," she cut him off quickly, "not like this. Can we meet somewhere?"

Steve's heart fell in his chest a bit. The tone of her voice was beginning to concern him. "Oh, yeah sure, that's fine. Are you free right now?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as light as possible.

"Yeah, I just got done with class. Where are you?"

"I'm at Central Park Lake," he replied, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his knee.

She let out a breath of air and he heard her getting up from wherever she'd been sitting. "Okay, if you can get over to the Ballplayers' House I can meet you there in 25 minutes."

"Is that near 65th?" he asked, working off a vague memory from the last time he'd been in that area of the park.

"Yep, it's right next to the carousel," she replied.

"Okay, I'll be there," he said, gathering his sketchbook and getting up from the bench. "Hey, Kat?" She remained quiet, so he plowed on ahead. "I'm really glad you called." Whatever conversation they were about to have, Steve knew it would either make or break them. But either way, he really was glad.

"I'll see you soon, Steve," was all he got in reply before she hung up. Steve's heart dropped a little bit further, but he wasn't going to let it faze him. After a few weeks of relentlessly reaching out to her, he was just glad she'd finally decided to reach back.

 

* * *

 

It was a bit of a trek from where he'd been sitting by the lake to the restaurant, but Steve had jogged most of the way and made pretty good time. When the carousel finally came into his sight, he slowed down his pace a bit, so as not to seem overeager. He felt the same way he had right before their initial coffee date, where he and Kat had decided to try and be friends first, before becoming anything else.

Finally, the small eatery appeared as he rounded the bend in the path. It was a brick building with a slanted roof and a walk-up window where the patrons could order. On the patio there were several round tables covered in blue-and-white-checkered tablecloths, shielded from the Spring sun by blue umbrellas. And at one table, tucked into the corner of the iron railing, sat a form he instantly recognized.

Part of him wanted to run up to her, maybe surprise her from behind and get a laugh from her that he so desperately wanted to hear. But from their earlier conversation, he knew this probably wasn't the time. So instead, he walked into the patio area and waved when she caught sight of him, smiling as convincingly as possible.

What he didn't expect, however, was for Kat to practically jump up from the table and wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. "I've missed you, Steve," she said, though her voice was muffled by his shirt.

Steve returned her embrace tightly—but not _too_ tightly—and replied, "I've missed you too, Kat." She let go after a moment and returned to her seat, looking slightly embarrassed. But Steve was practically on Cloud 9.

"Did you want to get something to eat?" she offered, motioning towards the little eatery behind him. He noticed the line wasn't very long.

"Oh, sure. I'll be right back." Steve went up to the counter and ordered 4 hotdogs—just a little snack—and returned to the table after they'd been handed over. Kat was working on a small basket of fries, and they talked about their days while they ate; neutral subject matter. But all the while, the real reason for their meeting hung over them like a heavy raincloud, threatening to burst and spill down on them at any moment.

Steve finished his hot dogs before Kat finished her fries, which he found oddly comical. She seemed to picking at her food absently though, and the worry in his chest began to tighten. He set aside the basket his food had come in and then leaned both elbows on the table, folding his arms one over the other and just watching her for a moment.

Should he speak first? No, she'd been the one to suggest they meet up; he'd wait for her to talk. But then, she'd been extremely quiet since he'd arrived, more quiet than he'd ever known her to be before. Steve didn't like where this was going at all.

Finally, Kat pushed her half-finished snack off to the side and looked up at him, abandoning all attempts at eating. "I guess I'm sort of at a loss of what to say," she uttered quietly.

"I know it must have come as a shock." She looked back down at the table but didn't say anything. "Kat, I'm sorry I lied to you. But the people that found me, S.H.I.E.L.D., they seem to think it's imperative that I keep my identity hidden." The ghost of a smirk passed over her lips, and she reminded him so much of Bucky in that moment it physically _hurt._

"I can't imagine why," she teased, finally looking back up at him. "It would probably come as a shock to quite a few people to know that the WWII hero, Captain America, was still alive and hadn't aged a day since 1943."

The moment she said those words out loud, laid them bare on the table, Steve felt lighter than before. To look at this thing—this completely crazy, messed up thing—for what it truly was seemed to relieve his burden slightly. And he couldn't help but chuckle at her frankness. That was the Kat he knew; the Kat he...

Best not to think about that right now.

They were both quiet for a few moments, all awkward glances and twiddling thumbs. Finally, Kat said, "I'm not angry with you, Steve." That made him feel a little bit better. "I'm just having a hard time... _processing_ all of this. It doesn't seem possible, yet here you are, sitting in front of me. And now that I know you have an even further connection to my family... I'm not sure what to do or say."

"I never imagined this would happen... I mean, what were the odds?" He was trying to remain optimistic, but the way Kat continued to refuse to meet his gaze didn't give him much reason to do so.

"One in a million, probably," she muttered. "But it did happen, and... and now I'm not so sure."

Those words shot through him like lightning. Every hair on his neck seemed to be standing straight up; every nerve in his body was on edge, blood pumping through his veins frantically.

"Not sure about what?" Steve wasn't totally sure he wanted to hear the answer to that question.

Kat picked at a spot on the tablecloth nervously, still refusing to meet his gaze. "Not sure if we can go on the way we did before," she said quietly.

"Don't say that, Kat," he responded quickly; desperately. He wanted very badly to reach across the table and grasp her hand, but he thought that was probably a bad idea. "Th-this _part_ of me, it doesn't change who I am, or who I was with you. I'm retired, Kat; Captain America isn't needed to fight the Nazis anymore. I doubt very much I'll ever be needed again. That's all in the past, and I'm ready to start over. I _need_ to start over."

Kat was quiet for a very long time, and Steve eventually realized that it was because she was trying—and failing—not to cry. Try as she might, the tears still escaped and traced their way down her cheeks.

"I know, Steve," she whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear. "I just don't think you can start over with _me._ "

That was it; the last straw he could possibly bear. His heart felt like it had shattered in his chest, and whatever words he'd been about to say died on his lips.

"Meeting you," she continued when he remained silent, "has been one of the most amazing things to ever happen to me. But I think it's best if we don't see each other anymore."

"No, Kat, pl—"

"Don't," she cut him off, not unkindly. "Please don't make this harder than it already is. Of course, you're welcome to still visit Nana. She has really enjoyed visiting with you. But I won't be there. Too many secrets and lies, Steve; too many..."

He was at a loss of what to say. Of all the scenarios he'd envisioned pertaining to this moment, none of them could have prepared him for this. This wasn't what he wanted—not in the least—but he wasn't going to push her; he wouldn't beg. It was clear that she'd thought about this in great depth. If she didn't want to see him anymore, he'd respect her wishes.

"Can I say one thing?" he asked quickly, head bowed and eyes closed in thought.

"Of course," she replied softly.

He took a deep breath and looked up at her, filtering his thoughts before he uttered them. "Thank you, Kat," he replied, "for everything you've done. You don't know how much you saved me. I came to you in pieces, and now I'm gonna leave you a little bit more put together."

More tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Slowly, she stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and coming around to where he sat on the opposite side of the table. When she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek, Steve didn't know what to do. He just sat there and enjoyed the feel of it while it lasted.

"Goodbye, Steve," she whispered.

And then she was gone, melding into the crowd and slipping away as easily as a puff of smoke. Steve felt numb all over, like all of this was just some kind of dream. But he knew it wasn't. If it was, Kat never would have said goodbye.

 

* * *

 

Steve was glad the punching bag didn't have any feelings, because he was beating the crap out of it right now. The ' _slap! slap!_ ' of his knuckles against the beige bag served to calm his nerves. He wasn't angry; that wasn't why he was mercilessly punching this thing right now. No... he was heartbroken.

The boxing gym wasn't too far from his place, and the owner had been nice enough to allow him to use it after hours. Steve had come here a lot right after he awoke from the ice, but once he met Kat, he found the need to release his frustration lessening. But now... right now all he wanted was to punch his feelings right out of him, if that was even possible.

A sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead, dripping down into his eyes and making them sting. But he really didn't give a damn right now. Steve quickened his pace, making the chain that held the bag up clank with every hit he landed. Just a little bit faster; he needed to go faster, forget everything that had happened that day.

His frustration and hurt built up inside his chest until he couldn't take it anymore. Steve pulled back and then flung all of his weight and power into a vicious straight punch. The moment his fist connected with the punching bag, he felt the chain give and snap off, making the bag fly across the room and skid across the floor.

Steve stood there staring for a moment, catching his breath quickly. He definitely hadn't expected that to happen. But even though he'd packed every ounce of his force into that hit, the ache in his chest hadn't gone away; not even a little bit.

"Trouble sleeping?" a familiar voice came from behind him. Steve should have been surprised, but he really wasn't.

As he turned to face Director Fury, he started unwrapping the cotton fabric from around his hands. Fury strode towards him from the hallway, hands clasped behind his back in a nonchalant manner.

"I slept for seventy years straight, Sir," Steve said with a bit more sarcasm than was probably necessary. "Find I don't need much sleep these days." He heard Fury chuckle a bit, and finally looked up to find the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. studying him with an odd, appraising look. "What brings you here at this time of night?" Steve continued cautiously. "Trying to get me back out in the world?"

Fury studied him only a moment longer, before saying, "Trying to save it. You interested?"

That was not at all what Steve had expected him to say, but he had to admit he was intrigued. The memories of his earlier conversation with Kat came back to him in force. He'd told her he was retired, and this morning that had been true. Now here was the man in charge of an organization tasked with protecting this country, seemingly offering him a way back in. But was that really what he wanted?

When he'd woken up this morning, he'd been content to never take up the mantle of Captain America again. But that was before Kat had told him she never wanted to see him again. Maybe this was what he needed, to avoid slipping into the depression and banality of his life before Kat had come into it. It was possible the world didn't need Captain America anymore, but Steve thought that maybe he did.

Fury was still watching him as he wrestled internally. After a few more moments, Steve set his jaw and looked Fury in the eye. "So," Steve finally said, "what's the mission?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now everyone. I know it's shorter than other chapters, but it was a good stopping point. Please comment and let me know what you think! :)


	6. Innocence and Instinct

Walking away from Steve Rogers was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But at this point, it was all she could do. Things had gotten out of hand, and they would only continue to do so if she continued on this way. This really was the only way she could see them both coming out of this with the least amount of hurt, even if her heart was breaking. The reality of the situation demanded—

"Katherine Jean Winters," a voice said behind her, snapping Kat out of her damnable thoughts.

She was leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, staring down into her abandoned coffee cup where it still sat from this morning. With a peek over her shoulder, she found the disapproving gaze of her grandmother practically boring into her skull.

"Nana, I've asked you not to sneak up on me like that," Kat said wearily, pushing away from the counter and turning to face the old woman.

"Well, how am I supposed to learn anything that goes on in this house? With you and your mother tip-toeing around me like I'm some porcelain doll, it's driving me insane," she snapped irritably, hands placed firmly on her hips.

Kat sighed and closed her eyes, cursing the headache she could already feel coming on. "I'm sorry, Nana," she muttered quietly, bringing up a hand to squeeze the bridge of her nose. "It's just—"

"Have you spoken with Steve yet?" Her tone had shifted just a bit. Instead of sounding accusatory, Kat noticed that her grandmother actually seemed concerned. "He's desperate to see you again, Kitty. I really think you should."

"I saw him today," Kat admitted quietly, chancing a look at her grandmother's face. There was hope there, and Kat hated to be the one to dash it. "I told him... Well, I told him that I didn't think we should see each other anymore."

"You did what?" Nana exclaimed loudly.

"Nana, please," Kat sighed, turned back towards the counter and bringing her dishes to the sink. "I really don't want to talk about it right now. What's done is done."

"Far be it from me to question your life choices, Katherine," Nana continued, completely unperturbed, "but you know as well as I that meeting Steve Rogers was not just happenstance." Kat halted in her movements, leaving the faucet running and the sponge still in her hand. Her grandmother was right, but not for the reasons she thought she was. "Don't throw this away, Kitty. You're going to regret it."

At that moment, both of them turned at the sound of the front door opening. "Mom? Kat? I'm here with dinner!" Kat's mother called from the foyer, juggling what sounded like grocery bags.

Nana glanced at Kat out of the corner of her eye. "We'll discuss more later," she said quietly, and then bustled out of the kitchen. Kat was left in deafening silence, wrestling with the decision of what she thought she had to do, and what she knew she needed to do. But before she could wrestle with herself any further, the buzzing of her phone on the counter snapped her out of it.

Kat picked it up and glanced at the caller ID.

_Unknown._

Drawing in her breath slowly, she tapped on the 'accept' icon and held the phone to her ear. "This is Katherine," she said quietly, hoping to avoid discovery by her mother or grandmother. They were still in the foyer talking, but Nana had a habit of listening in on conversations.

"You're needed," the monotone voice on the other end of the line said. She let out the breath she'd just taken quickly, trying to keep her nerves under control.

"What, now? It isn't a good time," she hissed.

"As soon as possible," the voice replied.

Kat chewed at her bottom lip for a moment longer. "Understood," she said quietly, and then hung up the phone. Of all the things to happen today, now this.

 

* * *

 

Director Fury handed over a file, which Steve opened cautiously. Within the file were copies of records that dated back to a time Steve remember well, as well as a black and white photo of a blue box he'd hoped never to see again.

"Hydra's secret weapon," he muttered, gazing at the photo of the Tesseract and feeling his chest tighten involuntarily.

"Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Fury explained. "He thought what we think: the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs."

"Who took it from you?" Steve asked, flipping the file closed.

"He's called Loki. He's not from around here." Steve suppressed his laughter at the absurd-sounding name. "There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."

_You don't know the half of it,_ Steve thought bitterly to himself, remembering all the trips to the museums he'd taken with Kat. Did Fury know about any of that? Steve doubted it, based on what he'd just said. "At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me," Steve said sharply.

"Ten bucks says you're wrong," Fury laughed. "There's a debriefing packet for the Avengers Initiative waiting at your apartment."

"The Avengers Initiative?" Steve questioned skeptically.

"A team of extraordinary individuals, such as yourself, working under S.H.I.E.L.D. operations," Fury explained patiently, leaning up against the boxing ring behind him.

"And you want me to...?" Steve left the question hanging, still a little unsure of Fury's full intentions. He had an idea, but he wanted Fury to say it out loud nonetheless.

Fury continued to scrutinize him with his one good eye. "To pick up the shield, Captain," he said matter-of-factly. Once he'd said it, Steve could feel his whole body buzzing. This was his chance, to continue to do something good with this gift he had been given. He just hoped he was up to the task.

"When do we start?" he asked with a half-smile, trying to contain the excitement building within him.

Fury seemed pleased, even cracking what Steve guessed passed as a smile coming from him. "One of my top agents is out in the field right now, rounding up a specialist. Once they get back, we'll call you in to the base. Two days tops, if Agent Romanov's reports are to be believed."

"Well," Steve said, shrugging his shoulders a bit, "you know where to find me." He was excited, that was for sure, but there was also a part of him that was a little hesitant. The world nowadays was so much different than before. They fought wars differently, and Steve didn't know if he was ready to tackle that. As much as Kat had helped him come to understand—and even like a little bit—the modern world, that was a part of himself he'd never shared. This was something he'd have to do on his own; he just hoped he was ready.

Fury turned to leave the gym, but when he got to the doorway that led into the hall, he stopped and turned back to Steve. "Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?" he asked.

Steve stared down at his hands, relieving a flood of memories that seemed so fresh. Finally, he looked back up at Director Fury. "You should have left it in the ocean."

 

* * *

 

Sure enough, two days later, Steve was sitting inside of something called a Quinjet, flying over the Atlantic Ocean with a bunch of strangers. When he'd come on board, they'd handed him a strange device that looked like nothing more than a flat screen. Turns out it was a computer, and Fury had wanted him to watch some footage on it. The image that flashed before him of a fearsome-looking, green... _thing_ didn't necessarily give him any comfort.

One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—Coulson, Steve thought his name was—who'd initially met him at the hangar came over to him. "We're about forty minutes out," he explained, leaning an arm against the overhead compartment. Steve looked up at him and nodded, smiling gratefully.

As he turned his attention back to the tablet, Steve said, "So, this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?"

"A lot of people were," he said. "You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought that gamma radiation was the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

The creature on the screen roared in fury and smashed apart a car, causing Steve's eyebrows to pop up. "Didn't really go his way, did it?"

"Not so much," Coulson chuckled. "When he's not that _thing_ though, the guy's like a Stephen Hawking." Steve glanced up at him in confusion; he had no idea who Stephen Hawking was. Luckily, Coulson picked up on his blunder. "He's uh... he's like a smart person." Steve made a nondescript sound of understanding and nodded slowly. Even after all the time he'd spent with Kat, that was something he hadn't quite mastered: pop culture references.

"I gotta say," the agent continued sheepishly, "it's an honor to meet you, officially." Steve smiled, though it was a little awkward. "I met you, sort of. I mean, I watched you while you slept." Steve's smile quickly fell. He put the tablet aside and walked towards the front of the jet, Agent Coulson following close behind. "I mean, I was... present while you were unconscious from the ice. Ya know, it's just a... a huge honor to have you on board."

"Well," Steve replied, "I hope I'm the man for the job."

"Oh, you are, absolutely. Uh..." Agent Coulson hedged for a moment, clearly nervous. "We've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input..."

"Uniform?" Steve questioned in amusement. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little old-fashioned?"

Phil's face took on a more serious look. "With everything that's happening in the world—the things that are about to come to light—people just might need a little old-fashioned." Steve had to smile at that. It was something he needed to hear right now.

Agent Coulson continued rambling on about the modifications to his so-called "uniform" until what looked like a massive aircraft carrier came into sight.

"Here we go," he muttered to himself as Phil spoke with the pilot.

They made their landing on the wide deck of the ship, then the ramp opened at the back of the aircraft, assaulting Steve's ears with the noise of hustle and bustle. Phil stopped beside him and gestured for Steve to go first, which he did with only a little hesitation. As they came to the bottom of the ramp, an attractive woman with short red hair met them.

"Agent Romanov," Phil said to her, the gesturing over at Steve. "Captain Rogers."

Steve nodded sharply. "Ma'am."

She eyed him up and down and then uttered a quick, "Hi." Steve was a little taken aback by her brusque manner, but he didn't let it faze him. The woman turned to Coulson. "They need you on the bridge. Face time."

Phil turned to Steve with an excited smile. "See you up there," he said before leaving them to head towards the bridge.

As soon as he was gone, Steve swallowed down his nervousness. Talking to strangers was never his strong suit. "There was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice," she said with a small smile, arms crossed over her chest. "I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?" She started walking towards the railing to their left, and Steve followed behind.

"Trading cards?" he asked with a chuckle.

"They're vintage. He's very proud." Well, at least one of them was good at conversation. Steve shoved his hands down in his pockets as they walked. In front of them, Steve noticed a dark-haired man pacing directly in their path. He seemed to be avoiding everyone around him, trying to stay out of their way. It took him a moment, but eventually Steve recognized him from his debriefing packet.

"Dr. Banner," Steve said, catching the bespectacled man's attention. He held out his hand, which the doctor took gladly.

"Oh, yeah. Hi," he stammered quickly. "They told me you'd be coming."

"Word is you can find the cube."

Dr. Banner's face took on a resigned look. "Is that the only word on me?" he asked with an edge of bitterness.

"It's the only word I care about," Steve replied firmly, which seemed to take Dr. Banner by surprise. It was true that the footage of the green creature had unsettled Steve, but those feelings didn't transfer to the man standing before him. He looked just like a regular guy; but then, Steve supposed he looked like a regular guy too.

"Gentlemen," Agent Romanov cut in, "you may want to step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe." Steve made to say something, but before he could utter a sound, the deck of the ship began to shake and rumble beneath him.

He and Dr. Banner walked over to the railing, looking down at the swirling ocean beneath them. The deck suddenly lurched and Steve tightened his grip on the rail, his heart pounding in nervousness. "What—?" Before he could say anything else, he realized the ship was actually starting to _fly_. Four huge fans emerged from the water, sheets of ocean water coming off them like Niagara Falls.

"I thought this thing might be a submarine," Dr. Banner said at his right, "but this is much worse..." Steve stayed at the railing only a moment longer, until he felt like he was going to lose that morning's breakfast, and then he decided it was probably wise to step inside as Agent Romanov had suggested.

They followed her through wide corridors until they came to an elevator. Steve could feel his nerves mounting as they traveled the distance up to the bridge, arriving in just a few seconds. This thing was really _flying._

The doors of the elevator opened to what he assumed was the bridge. But it didn't look like any bridge he'd ever been on before. There were scores of people hurrying across the gleaming floors, faces buried in tablets or speaking into earpieces. All around him were computer screens, displaying various diagnostics for the aircraft they were currently on. And right in front of them, with hands clasped behind his back in telltale fashion, was Director Fury.

Steve couldn't help himself, his mouth hung wide open as he gazed all around him. Fury turned as he realized they'd arrived on deck. "Gentlemen," he acknowledged them. Without a word, Steve reached for his wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it over to Fury, who took it with an amused smile. Fury then turned to Dr. Banner where he was awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Doctor, thank you for coming." Banner took the hand that was offered warily.

"Thanks for asking nicely," he replied. "So, uh... how long am I staying?"

"As long as it takes to find the Tesseract," Fury replied.

"Yeah, where are you with that?" Fury glanced over his shoulder at Coulson, who explained some gibberish about satellites and accessible cameras.

"We need to narrow the field," Banner replied. "How many―?"

"We've brought in a specialist to help you with that, Dr. Banner," Fury cut in. Banner stared with his mouth hanging open.

"Really?" he said in a disbelieving tone. "Another specialist in gamma radiation?"

"Not quite," Fury smirked. "Here she is now."

He looked past Dr. Banner, over his shoulder to the elevator they'd all just come from. Steve hadn't even noticed it opening. But it felt like a bolt of lightning had hit him when he saw who stood there. And when her eyes fell on him, he could tell she was just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"K-Kat?" His voice sounded feeble and weak, nothing like he'd intended it to.

Her mouth gaped open and closed as she searched for the words to say; her hands fiddled at her waist nervously. "Hello, Steve," she finally replied.

Fury's gaze snapped between the two of them. "You _know_ each other?" he asked angrily.

Steve could feel his surprise slowly turning into anger, and the white hot sting of betrayal. It seems he wasn't the only one keeping secrets. "I thought I did," he replied stonily. The bridge had gone strangely silent, but he ignored the gazes of those all around him. His eyes remained fixed on Kat where she stood across from him.

"Steve, please..." Whatever she'd been about to say, she let it fade into silence. Steve set his jaw stubbornly.

"Somebody wanna explain this?" Fury asked, though his eyes never left Kat.

"Yeah, I don't really understand what's going on here either," Dr. Banner interjected, looking around for a friendlier face.

"Seems the Captain and our specialist have some undisclosed _history_ ," Natasha replied, arms crossed over her chest. "Come on Dr. Banner, I'll show you the lab where you'll be working. Let's say we leave them to it, shall we?" Banner nodded slowly and followed Agent Romanov off the bridge, leaving Fury, Kat, and Steve all standing in weighted silence.

"Can we... can we speak somewhere a little more private?" Kat suggested quietly. Fury looked between them one more time and then motioned with his head for them to follow. Steve did so without question, but when he passed by Kat, he refused to even look at her. His anger was probably getting the better of him, but Steve didn't really care all that much right now.

Fury led them down one of the wider halls, and into what looked to be a conference room not far off the bridge. The door was all glass, with an electronic keypad in place of a handle. Fury punched some numbers in and the door slid open with a ' _whoosh_ '. "In here," he said sternly, ushering them inside. Steve was the first to go through, heading straight for one of the swivel chairs that sat around the long table. Kat sat across from him, and Fury took his place standing at the head of the table.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Fury said, "Somebody speak... _now._ " Steve stared across at Kat, who was taking every action to avoid his gaze. "Alright, since neither of you are gonna talk, I guess I'll be asking the questions. Captain Rogers―" Steve tore his gaze away from Kat to look up at Fury "―you mind explaining how you know this young lady?"

"I _thought_ we were friends," he said, biting out the word friends like a curse. "Looks like I was wrong."

"Right," Fury said tersely, turning back to Kat. "Miss Winters, you mind explaining how the man you were tasked with keeping an eye on knows _exactly who you are_?"

Uncontrollable anger bubbled in Steve's chest. "What?" he shouted, slapping his hand down on the table involuntarily.

"Director Fury, please let me explain!" Kat interjected, looking desperately between the two men in front of her. Fury gestured with his hand for her to continue, but Steve felt like his head was about to burst if she said anything more. "Steve," she continued quietly, "I lied to you, and I am so sorry for that. Director Fury asked me to keep an eye on you, and I agreed, but I _never_ intended for things to... to happen the way they did."

"You never intended to speak to me, that's what you mean," he practically growled.

"No," she replied hurriedly, "no, I never meant for you to get hurt."

Steve eyed her for a moment for turning back to Fury. "And why exactly was _she_ tasked with keeping an eye on me?"

"I told you," Fury said, "she's a specialist... a tracking specialist. I wanted to keep an eye on you for the purpose of finding out if you were ready for this mission. Miss Winters here assured me that you were, but she never told me she'd made her presence known to you."

"A... tracking specialist?" Steve glanced over at Kat in confusion.

"Katherine here is what we at S.H.I.E.L.D. call an Enhanced," Fury explained in a dull tone. "Somewhat like yourself, Captain. Only her talents were not man-made." The more that Fury said, the more Steve's head began to ache. This couldn't be real; this was some kind of dream.

"Please," Kat said softly, "Director Fury, I can take it from here." She looked at him entreatingly, and Fury finally gave in.

"I'll leave you to it then," he said. "And I'll meet _you_ back on the bridge, Captain." Steve watched him go; listened to the glass door as it slid shut; waited in the silence for Kat to explain herself.

"Steve―"

"What does he mean by ' _enhanced'_?" he said slowly, punctuating the final word sharply.

"That's not really the proper term," she replied. "Like he said, my... _abilities_ are not man-made."

"You were born with them?" She nodded quickly, still staring at her hands where they rested in her lap. "What do you... _do_?"

"I'm what's called a Pathfinder," she explained. "I can find things, if I have a piece of it. And I can find people, if I have something that belongs to them..."

"So you used something of mine to keep tabs on me." It wasn't a question; rather, a statement of fact, of the lie that they're entire friendship had been built upon. Her silence was answer enough. "What did Fury give you? I assume it wasn't anything I gave you, or that you took from me. That meeting in the park wasn't an accident, was it?"

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "No, it wasn't," she finally answered. "I'd been tracking you for some time before that, but that day... I don't know. You looked so lonely, and I just wanted to... to maybe help you not be."

Steve let out the breath he realized he'd been holding. "What did Fury give you?" he asked again. When she remained quiet, Steve looked up at her pointedly, narrowing his eyes. "Kat, what did he give you?"

"I swear I was going to give it back," she whispered, reaching into her jacket pocket, "when the truth came out. And... and I guess it has now." Kat laid her hand down on the table with a metallic ' _clink_ ', whatever was held in her hand making the noise. And when she moved her hand away, Steve felt all the breath leave his body. "They found it on you when they brought you out of the ice. I guess Fury already had me in mind, because he kept it."

Steve half-rose out of his seat to lean across and pick up the small, circular disc of metal. It felt cold to the touch, but instantly warm and familiar at the same time. The compass looked the same as it had seventy years ago; it seemed Steve wasn't the only thing the ice had preserved. And inside the compass was still the picture of Peggy, as beautiful as ever. Steve thought he could actually feel his heart breaking. Somehow, this just made the betrayal even worse.

"Does Edith know? About your _abilities_?" He was hoping and praying that she didn't; that she hadn't lied to him too.

"Yes, she does," Kat replied softly. "But she doesn't know that I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. as a consultant, nor that I had been assigned to follow you. Steve, I swear, I never meant for her to find out. You were never supposed to meet her; you were never supposed to find that damn picture of my Uncle Bucky. I'm so sorry."

He stood from the table forcefully, knocking the chair backwards and onto the floor. "I don't want to hear anymore," he growled.

"Wait, Steve, please don't go, I―"

The ' _whoosh'_ of the plastic door cut off her voice like the axe blade of an executioner. And Steve never once looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now, everyone! Please comment and let me know what you think! :)


	7. Damage

_He didn't look back._

It took everything within her not to cry, though it was the only thing she wanted to do right now. Steve had just walked away; he didn't even spare her a glance. Kat supposed she deserved this kind of treatment after lying to him for so long, but a part of her had hoped and prayed that Steve would be forgiving.

This time though, her prayers had gone unanswered.

Kat fell back into the chair she'd been sitting in, burying her face in her hands. The wall to her left was all glass—anyone walking by would have seen her—but she didn't care. It felt like a hole had opened up in her chest, one put there by her own doing. _My own stupidity_ , she thought bitterly, _that's what got me in this mess._

The sound of the door opening once more caused her head to snap up in hope, but it wasn't Steve standing there.

"Agent Winters," the red-haired woman said softly, "if you'd like to follow me to the lab, I'll introduce you to Dr. Banner. He's the gamma radiation specialist you'll be working with."

Kat wiped at her bleary eyes hastily, trying to hide the moisture on her cheeks that was so painfully obvious. "Please," she said with a weak smile, "I'm not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. I just consult with them from time to time. Call me Kat."

Agent Romanov nodded appreciatively. When Kat reached the doorway she held out her hand. "In that case," she said, "I'm just Natasha." Kat nodded in thanks and followed her back out into the hallway. She threw a look over her shoulder, back towards the bridge, but she couldn't see Steve, wherever he was.

They continued down the hall away from the bridge in silence, which Kat was glad for. It was bad enough that this woman had seen her cry; at least she wasn't bringing it up. The narrow corridors of the hellicarrier seemed to twist and turn endlessly. Kat didn't know how she would ever remember where she was or how to get where she needed to go. Maybe there was a map around here somewhere...

"Here it is," Natasha said, motioning to a door on their right. Inside was a sprawling laboratory, with various instruments and components she knew nothing about. But she wasn't here for whatever scientific knowledge she may have possessed; she was only here for the abilities that she possessed. That fact stung her a little bit, but she'd come to terms with it. Fury had made it clear from the beginning of her recruitment that she would not be seeing any field action, which didn't bother her. But she did feel like these people viewed her as more of a tool than a person.

Across the lab, sitting behind a waist-high worktable, was the dark-haired man she'd seen on the bridge. His nose was buried in a tablet, completely focused on whatever data was spread out before him, and his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose until they were almost falling off. He had a pleasant look to him, which stood in stark contrast to the knowledge Kat already had about him.

"Fury said he could calibrate the spectrometers, didn't he?" the man asked without even looking up. Natasha cleared her throat lightly, causing him to raise his head. "Oh! Sorry, didn't see you there." Kat smiled warmly at him—as warmly as she could, given the current circumstances—and walked over so she could shake his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Banner," she said. "I'm Katherine Winters; I'll be helping you narrow down your search for the Tesseract." He still seemed confused, as he had before on the bridge, but his smiles came a little easier now.

"Nice to meet you too," he replied slowly, taking her hand. Kat didn't hang on too long; his energy was practically overwhelming. "Um, how exactly are you going to be helping me again?"

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Natasha said from behind her. Kat turned and gave an appreciative smile before she left.

Once the door to the laboratory closed, Kat turned back to the workstation. "Dr. Banner—"

"Please," he interjected, "just call me Bruce."

Kat nodded shortly. "Bruce," she continued in a serious tone, "what I'm about to tell you is classified information; I trust you understand the gravity of that."

He chuckled lightly before replying, "Miss Winters, my entire existence is classified information. Whatever you've got to tell me, my lips are sealed."

She was beginning to like this doctor. "Good," she said, "then it shouldn't come as a surprise to you to know that I possess certain... _abilities_ that a normal human would not possess."

"Very little surprises me these days."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. and Directory Fury would call someone like me an 'Enhanced'," she explained slowly, "but we, and others, refer to ourselves as 'mutants'."

Banner seemed to chew on this information a moment. "Mmm, mutants?"

"The term is fairly straightforward," she chuckled. "My abilities are a byproduct of my mutated genes. S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to think I'm not a threat to them, and my abilities are fairly benign, so they bring me on as a consultant from time to time."

"You keep saying 'abilities'. What exactly can you do then?" he questioned skeptically, narrowing his dark gaze.

"There are hundreds, if not thousands, of ways that mutated genes can manifest. In my case, I'm what's called a Pathfinder; more or less, a glorified bloodhound." This seemed to amuse Banner, because he let out a short bark of laughter. "If I'm given a piece of a thing, I can track and locate that thing anywhere in the world. Alternatively, if I'm given something that belongs, or once belonged, to somebody, I can track and locate them as well."

"So Fury thinks you can locate the Tesseract using...?"

"You, Dr. Banner," she replied with an encouraging smile. Every time she told someone about her abilities, it always seemed a difficult pill for them to swallow. At least he was taking it well. "The gamma radiation in your cells is an exact match to the power signature given off by the Tesseract."

"So..." Kat could see the wheels turning in his head. "So you need... a _piece of me?"_ He seemed shocked and nervous, causing Kat to burst out in a fit of laughter.

"It's not as serious as it sounds, Dr. Banner," she said once her laughter had subsided. "I just need a little DNA. A piece of hair will do just fine. Between you and I, we'll locate the Tesseract in no time." Banner seemed relieved as he chuckled along with her. Their lightheartedness helped Kat feel a little better from her earlier interaction with Steve, but it didn't make the pain go away completely.

Bruce fished around in his pocket for a moment before finally drawing out a Swiss army knife. He grinned sheepishly as he raised the pocketknife to the very top of his head and cut off a small lock of hair. "Will this do?" he asked, holding it out for Kat's inspection.

"That's perfect," she said, removing a linen handkerchief from her pocket and placing the hair inside. She folded up the square of fabric and put it safely back in her jacket pocket. "I'll need some time to acquaint myself with they energy signal I'll be honing in on, but once I have something I'll let you know. We'll cross-reference locations."

"Just keep in mind that the Tesseract is going to be emitting an extremely powerful signal," Banner explained, "even more than me. Does that... does that help you at all? Sorry, I don't know how... all _this_ works." He made a gesture towards her.

"It does, thank you," she chuckled. "This piece of your DNA will allow me to pick up on practically every object or person in the world that contains any trace of gamma radiation. It'll take me some time to sift through the weaker signals, but I don't estimate it will be more than a couple days. Keep up your work, and I'll keep up mine." Banner nodded and turned back to the various screens in front of him, adjusting his glasses off the tip of his nose.

Kat decided to return to the bridge, despite the knowledge that Steve was probably still there. She needed to speak with Fury anyways—or at least Agent Romanov—to discuss her lodging and maybe track down a map of the ship. They didn't just expect her to know, did they?

She was able to find her way to one of the main corridors, and from there she followed the stream of traffic towards the bridge. Once there, she eyed Steve standing on the platform next to a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, arms crossed over his chest and back turned towards her. Her breath caught in her throat involuntarily at the sight of him. The look of betrayal and hurt on his face when she'd revealed her secret to him seemed to be branded into her memory.

Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to go to him. After tracking him for so long, she could still faintly feel the pull of his energy, even without the amplification of the compass. But she denied her instinct, and hung back until she found Director Fury leaned over the desk of another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. This agent, she recognized as Maria Hill. They'd spoken on occasion, when she'd first been recruited and throughout her training to be cleared as a S.H.I.E.L.D. consultant.

Quickly, she walked over to Director Fury, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Steve was talking with the agent at his right, and didn't seem to notice her presence.

"Director Fury?" she said as soon as she was next to him.

"What is it, Miss Winters?" he asked in a dull tone, never taking his eyes off the screen in front of him.

"The agent that brought me in didn't give me any direction on where I'd be bunking," she explained quietly, "or any direction at all, for that matter."

Fury heaved a sigh. "Do I look like a concierge?" he bit out sarcastically. Kat couldn't find the words to respond, but the blood rushing to her cheeks should have been answer enough. Fury sighed again and shook his head. "Agent Coulson!"

Kat cringed at the volume of his voice, and cringed even further when Steve and the agent who'd been standing next to him turn to stare at her. As soon as Steve's eyes fell on her, his whole demeanor changed; his gaze hardened and she watched as his posture stiffened in anger. Agent Coulson started to walk over to them, but before he could reach them, another agent from across the way called out.

"We got a hit!" he said, grabbing everyone's attention. Fury, Hill, Coulson, and Steve all made there way over to his workstation, while Kat remained firmly rooted to the spot. "Sixty-seven percent. Wait, cross match, seventy-nine percent." A few images popped up on the screen they were all gathered around, but Kat couldn't see what they were from here.

"Location?" Coulson asked.

"Stuttgart, Germany," the agent replied quickly, tapping madly at his keyboard. "28, Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding."

Director Fury turned to look at Steve. "Captain, you're up."

Steve nodded curtly and turned to leave the bridge. Unfortunately, to do so, he had to walk right past where Kat was standing. As he drew nearer, Kat tried to work up her nerve; as it stood right now, it was completely shot. He walked with a determined gait, eyes fixed steely ahead. He was getting closer; it was now or never.

Kat reached out as he passed by, brushing against his arm and then drawing her hand quickly away. That was stupid... this was a bad idea. She half-expected him to just keep on walking, whether he'd realized she'd touched him or not. But Steve surprised her when he stopped; stopped and turned to look her in the eye.

"I know you're still angry with me," Kat said in a hurried whisper, "and I don't blame you. But can I just talk to you?" Steve's eyes traveled over her face; she'd never seen them look so cold before. But the longer he looked, the more she could see his hard exterior begin to fall.

He glanced back over at where Director Fury still stood by the workstation. "I have somewhere I have to be right now," he said quietly, turning his eyes back on her, "but we'll talk when I get back. I was angry before, and I'm sorry for leaving like that... but I think you still have some explaining to do."

It wasn't the answer she wanted, nor was it the one she'd expected. But it was better than him ignoring her. She nodded quickly and then he continued with his trek away from the bridge. Kat watched him go, just a little bit relieved.

 

* * *

 

Kat was honestly shocked that Fury had allowed her to stay on the deck and watch the altercation unfold on the monitors. After all, what business did she have here? By all rights, she should have been holed up in her quarters, focusing on any gamma radiation signatures and trying to help Dr. Banner locate the Tesseract.

But here she was, chewing nervously on her nails while she watched Steve duke it out with some guy in a reindeer costume. Apparently, he was an 'Asgardian'—a term she was only vaguely familiar with—and someone that they should not underestimate. But Steve looked like he was holding his own well enough.

That is, until Loki flung Steve across the pavilion and he landed on his back. Kat watched with bated breath as Steve flung his shield at Loki's chest, but the Asgardian swatted it aside as if it were nothing but paper. Steve vaulted towards him, swinging his fists wildly like a boxer, but it didn't matter. Loki knocked him back to the ground, making him kneel underneath the menacing point of his scepter.

She gasped involuntarily and her hand flew to cover her mouth. "Steve," she whispered quietly, feeling her hand shaking slightly. He made another attempt at Loki, kicking him in the jaw and making him flip, but the Asgardian was fast, grabbing Steve and flipping him over.

Natasha's voice came over the comm. "This guy's all over the place," she growled from her place in the cockpit, watching the fight unfold beneath her and trying to get a clear shot. Suddenly, the sounds of a guitar riff blasted over the comms.

"What the hell?" Kat breathed quietly, lurching forward to try and get a better view of the monitors.

"Agent Romanoff," an unfamiliar voice said, "did ya miss me?"

"'Bout damn time," Fury chuckled quietly, shaking his head. A streak of light blurred past on the monitors, and Kat could just make out another figure in the midst of all the commotion. A blast of white and yellow light came out of the hand of the other figure, hitting Loki square in the chest and knocking him on his backside.

Kat finally recognized the newcomer as Tony Stark, decked out in his Iron Man suit. When he touched down on the ground, Stark stood up straight and various pieces of weaponry came out of his suit, all pointed directly at Loki. "Make your move, Reindeer Games," Stark quipped sarcastically. Loki slowly raised his hands above his head in an act of surrender. "Good move," Tony continued, and Kat could hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice.

Steve stepped a little closer to him. "Mr. Stark," he acknowledged.

"Cap'n," Tony nodded back. They both looked at Loki in relieved wonder as Natasha put the Quinjet down on the pavilion. The other agents gathered around the monitors all began congratulating each other on the success of the mission—though Kat wasn't sure why; none of them had really done anything.

"What'd you think?" Fury asked her over his shoulder, still keeping his one good eye on the screens in front of him.

"That was intense," Kat breathed out, feeling her shoulders relax a little bit. "It's a good thing Mr. Stark showed up when he did; Steve might not've fared so well."

"Yeah, Tony has a funny way of doing that..." Fury said, letting the thought trail off into silence. "I'd suggest not calling him 'Mr. Stark' to his face. He hates it." Kat nodded, though she wasn't sure if Fury even saw.

Kat turned her attention back to the monitors, where Natasha and another agent were putting Loki in cuffs and leading him onto the jet. Steve and Tony were talking to one another as they followed behind. Everything had gone smoothly, which she was grateful for. Maybe a little _too_ smoothly...

 

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes later, her fears had come true. There had been an altercation; some other player in the game. Maybe an Asgardian, she didn't know; Fury had been very vague on the details. All she knew was that Loki, Stark, and Steve had all somehow ended up outside of the jet and had then returned with an extra passenger.

They were en route back to the hellicarrier, and they'd arrive in the next hour or so. Kat was so filled up with nerves she could hardly stand it. And it seemed she was beginning to wear on Dr. Banner as well.

"Miss Winters, do you maybe wanna take a seat?" he asked with a sigh from his worktable.

"Huh?" she uttered, looking up and realizing she'd been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm just—"

"Nervous, yeah I get it," he said with a kind smile, glancing back at a tablet in his hands and then to the holographic screen in front of him.

Kat watched him for a few moments, deciding on her best course of action. Throughout all of her interactions with Dr. Banner so far—which had been, admittedly, very few—he'd shown himself to be trustworthy. And as everything stood right now, she needed somebody she could trust.

"Dr. Banner—"

He looked at her and held up his hand. "Please, call me Bruce."

"Right," she replied nervously, "sorry... Bruce, you don't think it's a little odd?"

He shot her a questioning gaze. "What? That Loki surrendered so easily? I think it's more than a little odd. But we've got the guy in custody; I'm not about to question it."

Kat chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "But what if that's his plan?"

Bruce eyed her carefully. "You think he's got something else planned? Besides whatever he's got going on with the Tesseract?"

"I don't know yet," she replied. "I just know that I have a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah, well, if we all operated based off our bad feelings, nothing would ever get done," he said, not unkindly. "I'm gonna trust that Director Fury knows what he's doing, and has a way to get a handle on this guy."

There was more Kat wanted to say, but she let it lie. There'd be time for discussion later, when the rest of the team was present. She wasn't really sure if she was considered part of the team, per se, but she wanted to help in any way she could. If that meant offering up her intuitive senses, then so be it.

Dr. Banner continued studying the diagnostics on his screen as Katherine sat opposite him at the worktable. From where she was sitting, she could see into the Quinjet hangar behind them, so she would know the moment Steve was back on board. The knot forming in her stomach hadn't gone away, and she didn't think it would til he was safely back. She knew he probably wasn't concerned with her—she didn't blame him, after all she'd done—but she couldn't help herself worrying; not until he was safe.

The minutes ticked by slowly in silence, but she couldn't bring herself to focus. Her leg bounced wildly as she tried to settle, and found it impossible. So when the door to the hangar opened, and she saw the nose of the Quinjet peeking in, it took everything within her not to race down there and meet him as he came off the jet. But she knew she wouldn't receive any kind of warm welcome, so she stayed put.

The jet landed inside the hangar, and she saw a group of S.H.I.E.L.D. police in full tac-gear hurry towards the descending ramp. They were carrying firearms, and formed a rectangle around Loki as soon as he came out of the jet, hands still bound in front of him. They began marching out of the hangar, corralling the Asgardian as though he were some wayward animal. But Kat knew better.

Every nerve in her body was tingling as she felt his energy. There was so much anger there, buried beneath a cold façade of indifference, topped off with excessive amounts of pride and vanity. Of all the foes she'd ever encountered during her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D. consultant, this man was the most dangerous of them all.

She could hear the pounding of feet outside the lab, marching down the hallway as though they were marching to war. She and Bruce watched as the party came into view. This close, the Asgardian's energy was nearly stifling.

His gaze shifted into the lab, where he was looking at Dr. Banner with a mischievous smirk. His eyes locked onto Kat for only a split second before he disappeared from view, but she could swear his smile had widened upon seeing her. That look had sent a chill right down to her very core, and Kat found herself staring into the empty space where he'd just been, practically shaking. She didn't like that look; not at all.

"Dr. Banner," a voice suddenly said, snapping her out of her stupor. She looked at the entrance to the lab, and her heart began fluttering in her chest.

_Steve._

"Have I been summoned?" Bruce asked, with only the barest hint of sarcasm.

Steve nodded and then looked over at Kat. "Fury wants you there too, Agent Winters." His formality hurt her more than if he'd ignored her completely. She didn't bother correcting him, only nodded and followed Bruce out of the lab. They were headed back towards the bridge, that much she could tell. Steve walked ahead of her and Bruce, never once looking back to make sure they were following. The pressure in her chest began to tighten, as did the knot in her stomach.

Why did Fury want her there? What more could she offer than her ability to locate the Tesseract? No, there was something else at play here. Something Fury wasn't telling her. And even though it hurt to be so close to Steve and unable to talk to him—to explain herself fully and beg for his forgiveness—she was going to find out what was going on here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, but that's all for now. I'm right in the middle of moving to a new city and looking for a new job, so time between new chapters may be a bit longer than in the past. I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long. Hope you enjoyed, and please comment! :D


	8. Never Be The Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. The move and job hunt are complete, so I'm back with a new chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Kat didn't like this one bit. That self-satisfied smirk on Loki's face didn't give her any cause for comfort. And she didn't think it did for anyone else either. They were all gathered around a circular table on the bridge, eyes trained on a television screen broadcasting a live feed of Fury and their hostage.

"It's an impressive cage," Loki's beguiling voice purred over the speakers. "Not built, I think, for me."

"Built for something a lot stronger than you," Fury replied dryly.

"Oh, I've heard." The Asgardian shifted his gaze directly into the camera, seeming to look straight through to the group gathered around the table. Kat glanced over at Dr. Banner, and saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat. "The mindless beast, makes play he's still a man," Loki continued, turning back to Director Fury. "How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost creatures to defend you?"

"How desperate am I?" Fury scoffed. "You threaten my world with war; steal a force you can't possibly hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. Might not be glad that you did."

Loki chuckled darkly. "Ooh. It burns you to come so close. To have the Tesseract; to have unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is."

It was difficult to see from the this angle, but it looked like Fury may have been laughing. "Well, you let me know if 'Real Power' wants a magazine or something." Directory Fury turned and left Loki pacing in his cell, and then the screen went black. As the image disappeared, the silence around the table remained.

Kat stood away from the table, not really feeling like she belonged here all that much. Steve was sitting next to Dr. Banner, and she could see him periodically glancing at her. But she tried not to let it get her hopes up.

The other Asgardian—Thor—stood next to her, gaze trained on an unfixed point in the distance. The exchange they'd just watched seemed to have affected him deeply, and Kat could feel his energy buzzing.

"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Bruce said sarcastically, breaking the tense silence.

Steve let out a sigh. "Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?"

Thor seemed to come out of his daze, finally turning to the group surrounding the table. "He has an army, called the Chitauri," Thor explained. "They're not of Asgard, or any known world. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract." As Kat listened to the Asgardian explain, she felt a pit of nervousness growing in her stomach.

"An army?" Steve said seriously. "From outer space?" Kat figured this was all very strange for him, and she had to hide the small smile threatening to creep up.

"So he's building another portal," Banner cut in. "That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

"Selvig?" Thor asked.

"He's an astrophysicist."

"He's a friend." Thor seemed to be even more agitated than before.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell," Natasha said, finally joining the conversation. "Along with one of ours."

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him," Steve continued, echoing Kat's thoughts from earlier. "He won't be leading an army from here."

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki," Dr. Banner replied, casting Kat a furtive glance. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats; you can smell the crazy on him." Not quite smell, but Kat could definitely feel there was something not _right_ about him.

"Have care how you speak," Thor said gruffly, suddenly defensive. "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother."

Natasha tilted her head at Thor. "He killed eighty people in two days," she said dryly, one eyebrow cocked above the other.

Thor seemed to take a step back, and said quietly, "He's adopted."

Kat was beginning to feel very out of place, and she just hoped Fury would show up soon to tell her why she was here. Agent Hill was also here, standing quietly off to the side. At least she wasn't the only one. Kat crossed her arms over her chest, and began nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"What do you think, Kat?" Her heart dropped into her stomach when she heard Steve's voice. As she looked over at him, she realized this was not the Steve she had gotten to know and grown to care for. This Steve was all business.

Everyone turned to stare at her, which made her extremely uncomfortable. "I, uh... Well, when he first arrived on the ship," she started slowly, "I got a read on him. He's... _unstable,_ to say the least. But I don't think for a second that he isn't exactly where he wants to be."

"Iridium..." Dr. Banner said absently. "What's he need the iridium for?"

"It's a stabilizing agent," a new voice cut in, making them all turn to find the source. Kat recognized Tony Stark immediately. Agent Coulson was following quickly behind, and Stark was saying something to him quietly as they joined the rest of the group at the table. "Means the portal won't collapse," Stark continued, "like it did at S.H.I.E.L.D."

He walked over to Thor, patting him on the arm. "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing." Thor's gaze followed him without a hint of amusement. Stark turned back towards Dr. Banner. "Also means that the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants." Stark was now standing in the middle of the bridge, surveying the setup all around him. "Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails... That man is playing Galaga!" Everyone turned simultaneously to see where Stark was pointing. "Thought we wouldn't notice, but we did." Stark covered one of his eyes and began looking around. "How does Fury do this?"

Agent Hill looked on with a slightly amused glance. "He turns," she replied. Kat watched as Stark ran his hands over the desk where Fury normally operated from.

"Well, that sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick start the cube."

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Hill questioned amusedly.

"Last night," Stark replied. "The packet; Selvig's notes; the Extraction Theory papers. Am I the only one who did the reading?" Kat was a bit lost when it came to Stark, but she knew almost immediately that he was going to get on her nerves. She was finding it difficult to get a read on his energy; usually, she could read someone within moments of meeting them. But Stark was a bit different. She guessed it was because she suspected a lot of his... _eccentricities_ were just a front for what was underneath. What that "underneath" was, however, she wasn't sure yet.

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Steve asked. Kat could tell he was trying to keep up. He had the same look on his face that he'd had whenever they went to museums together or discussed the history he'd missed.

Dr. Banner replied, "He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

"Well, if he could do that he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet," Banner said with a hint of excitement.

_Well,_ Kat thought to herself, _so much for keeping up._

_"_ Finally," Stark said with a smile, reaching his hand out to Dr. Banner, "someone who speaks English."

"Is that what just happened?" Steve said with a hint of sarcasm. Kat gave him a sympathetic glance; he wasn't the only one lost during that exchange.

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Banner. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster." Bruce looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Thanks," he said slowly, reluctantly.

Kat jumped a bit when Stark suddenly whirled around to look at her. "And who's this?" he asked, walking towards her. Her pulse began to race, and Kat found that she couldn't form any words to speak. Over Stark's shoulder, Kat could see Steve going rigid in his chair.

"I, uh—"

Kat was cut off by Fury finally returning to the bridge. "Dr. Banner and Miss Winters are only here to track the cube," he said matter-of-factly. "I was hoping you might join them."

Tony eyed her carefully. "Another gamma radiation specialist?" he asked, taking her hand to shake it.

"Something like that," Kat muttered, drawing her hand away quickly. There was something... _off_ about his energy that she didn't like.

"Let's start with that stick of his," Steve cut in, causing Stark to turn towards him and release Kat's hand. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a Hydra weapon."

"I don't know about that," Fury said, "but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

Kat let out a chuckle at that. Thor made a grunting noise next to her and said, "Monkeys... I do not understand."

"I do," Steve exclaimed excitedly. "I understood that reference..." Kat looked at him with a smile, but it fell when she realized that the group was breaking up to complete their respective tasks.

Steve shot her a glance as he stood from the table, and jerked his head, indicating she should follow him. With a flutter in her stomach, she did. They wound through the corridors of the helicarrier, passing hundreds of people as they scurried about. But Kat didn't pay them any attention. Her pulse was racing too quickly to focus on anything except Steve where he walked in front of her. He seemed to know where he was going, so she followed without question.

A few minutes later, they came to a door with an electronic keypad in place of a handle. Steve punched a sequence of four numbers in, and then the door slid open, disappearing into the fold of the doorframe. Kat followed him into the room, noticing how he had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the top of the doorframe. Inside the room was a medium sized bunk, made up immaculately with a single pillow and white sheet. There was a desk opposite the bunk, but there was nothing laid out on top of it. Beyond the desk was a bathroom, also immaculately clean. The entire room screamed "soldier". The only personal touch she could see was where Steve had placed the compass she'd returned to him just earlier today, balanced on a small shelf above his bed.

"You said you wanted to talk," Steve said quietly, crossing his muscled arms over his chest and leaning against the desk chair. "So talk."

Kat felt her hands shake slightly in nervousness. This would go a lot easier if Steve wasn't acting so hostile, but she guessed she deserved it.

"I just..." Kat began shakily, wringing her hands at her waist. "I need you to know how sorry I am, for everything. It was _never_ my intention to hurt you. But I see now that was always going to be impossible."

"You lied to me from the very beginning," he said.

"I didn't really have a choice, Steve," she explained, not unkindly. "I doubt you would have given me the time of day if I'd told you I was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. And Director Fury made it clear from the beginning of my mission that I was, under no circumstances, to make you aware of my presence. I thought..." Kat paused, taking in a deep breath. "I wanted to have it both ways, Steve. In a world where I'm otherwise made to feel like an abomination, S.H.I.E.L.D. gives me purpose. And then you... for everything that the two of us have been through, you made me feel normal for the first time in a very long time."

Kat hoped that what she was saying made sense; it hardly made sense to her. But Steve uncrossed his arms, and she saw his shoulders relax a bit.

"So," he said quietly, staring down at the floor, "was anything else a lie?"

"No," she said quickly, "I didn't lie about anything else, Steve. I really do live in Brooklyn; Bucky really is my great-uncle; I really am studying to get my graduate degree in American History. There's just... another side of me, one that I was too scared to share with you."

Steve was quiet for a very long time, but Kat finally saw a small smile spread across his face. "I guess we aren't so different then, are we?" he asked, finally looking up at her. "This whole time, I was hiding who I really was. And so were you. The only difference being that you knew both of us were lying, and I thought I was the only one."

"I knew you couldn't tell me, Steve. I don't hold it against you." Slowly, Kat took a few steps towards him. "And," she continued, "I hope, in time, you'll come to understand why I did what I did. I believed I was protecting myself, but I see now that I should have been honest with you. Even if it meant you hated me—" Kat felt tears prick at her eyes "—it would have been better than living a friendship built on lies."

"Katherine, I need you to understand something." Kat bristled at his use of her full name, but she knew she didn't deserve his informality anymore. Steve took a few deep breaths, glancing around the room at anything but her. "For me... it was never _just_ a friendship. Right from the beginning, as much as I tried to fight it, it's always been something more. And to find out that it was a lie... I don't think you know how much it hurt me."

"Steve, my friendship was never a lie. The way we met, and how much I knew about you, was false. But everything else was real," she explained hastily, feeling Steve slip away again. "I'm sorry that I controlled things the way that I did. I held back, when all I wanted was to let go. Because I was afraid of how far things might get. I knew from the beginning that it couldn't be anything more, not while I was lying to you. But... but that doesn't mean I didn't _want_ it to be anything more."

Her heart was racing so fast it was hard to hear anything other than the pounding in her chest. All these thoughts and feelings she'd held in for so long suddenly came rushing out, making her chest hurt. And there was so much conflict on Steve's face and in his eyes, she couldn't even read him.

"I know I can never make amends for what I did," Kat continued, pushing forward despite her fear. "But I'm asking you... if you will consider moving past it. We're good together, Steve. I don't want to lose you, not even as a friend."

He was quiet for a long time, which didn't bring Kat much comfort. Finally, he said, "There's so much going on right now, Kat. Both of us need to focus on this mission and whatever's going on with Loki. But—" he paused, and Kat allowed herself a small measure of hope "—when this is all over... I want to try to start again. I want to be able to trust you again. But that means no more lies, from either of us."

Kat let out a long breath. "Agreed," she said with a small smile. They weren't back to where they'd been before, and Kat didn't think they ever would be. But for right now, this was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I can do happy :P I know it's short y'all, but this is a good stopping point. Hope you enjoyed, and please review! :D


	9. Ordinary World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay y'all. Hope you enjoy!

A small, pulsing light; light green in color; faint at first but growing stronger with every heartbeat. _Dr. Banner,_ Kat thinks to herself, taking long, even breaths. She sits cross-legged on her bunk, ignoring the constant hum of energy around her and focusing on a single signature. But that's not the one she's looking for. It's close, but not quite the same.

She breathes deeper and tries expanding her consciousness out further, seeking out the energy she needs to find. There's a similar energy signature close to Dr. Banner, but this one is a light blue color, and has a stronger concentration of energy.

_Loki's scepter._ Kat feels a chill spread through her chest as she reaches her mind towards the source of power. The amount of energy coming off the scepter is staggering, even from this far away. But it gives her a good point of reference to go back to. The hunt for the Tesseract will be much more difficult.

Even though the cube has as much, if not more, energy than the scepter, it could be anywhere in the world. Dr. Banner and Tony were doing their best to narrow down its location, but those efforts were slow-going… and they were running out of time.

From the moment Loki stepped foot on the ship, Kat could feel herself growing sick from the amount of energy pouring off the two Asgardians that now resided alongside her. Whereas Thor was all bravado and strength, Loki seethed with malice and duplicity. She wasn't surprised, given his nature and all the legends about him she'd grown up reading, but it was something far different when experienced in person. It was… _terrifying._

Kat couldn't get that image out of her head; Loki's twisted grin the first time she'd set eyes on him. What lay behind that devious façade? She couldn't say for sure… and that's what frightened her the most.

This ordeal would have been much easier with Steve by her side, but she'd thrown that chance away herself a long time ago. Even though they'd both agreed to try and reconcile their differences after this whole thing was over, he was still very distant towards her. Every time she tried to catch his eye, he'd intentionally avert his gaze. She supposed she deserved it, but it didn't make the reality of her situation any less painful.

She took another deep breath and tried once more to focus her mind outward, beyond the confines of the hellicarrier and to the earth below. Trying to find the energy signature of the Tesseract when it could be anywhere in the world was like looking for a piece of straw in a stack of needles. Kat's mind was being assaulted by hundreds upon thousands of energy sources with varying degrees of power, each one vying for her attention. It was taking everything in her power to block them out, not to mention the pain that went along with it.

When she was inside her own head, time seemed to move at a different pace. There were times where she would have sworn she was only Pathfinding for ten minutes, at most, when in reality hours had passed by without her realizing. There was one time, when she'd been searching for a fugitive that SHIELD wanted, that she'd spent so long in her own mind that she required medical care afterwards. Her body had suffered the effects as if she hadn't eaten or drank anything in 3 days. Since then, she'd taken great care to remain aware of how long she spent in her head.

Several more moments passed by without any results, so she decided to take a break and stretch her legs. Slowly, she drew herself out of her mind, and back into the real world. Her eyes opened and she rolled her shoulders, working out the tension and soreness in her limbs. Laying on the bed beside her was a small, leather-bound notebook that she kept her notes in. She glanced at her familiar, looping script:

_Start time – 3:23 pm_

Kat glanced at the watch on her wrist and groaned slightly; she'd stayed in longer than she intended. Stretching her cramped fingers, she picked up her pen and scribbled hastily on the lined paper.

_End time – 6:19 pm_

_Results: None_

For the past few days, she'd been searching independently without consulting Dr. Banner or Tony Stark. Part of her felt like she needed to do this on her own; prove that she deserved the trust and responsibility they'd placed on her. But now… now she was beginning to realize she couldn't do this on her own.

With a heavy sigh, she drew herself up off the bed and stretched her arms over her head. There was a slight chill in the air, so she grabbed a grey, cable-knit sweater from her bag and pulled it on over her tee shirt. Then she headed out of her quarters and through the sprawling ship to the lab where Dr. Banner had settled himself in.

When she got there, she halted her steps as quickly as she could and darted back around a corner, peeking her head out slightly to survey the scene. Steve was there, talking to Bruce and periodically glaring at Tony with a clenched jaw. Whatever they were discussing, she could tell it was serious; there were hot waves of energy rolling off each of them. So much so that she thought Steve and Tony might start punching each other at any moment.

A few more moments passed and then Steve turned to leave the lab, eyes trained on the floor and brow set into a scowl. Kat's heart started to pound as he began walking toward her down the hall. But he stopped mid-step and looked back over his shoulder the other way, towards what she thought was the cargo bay. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, and then strode down the corridor the opposite way. Kat breathed a sigh of relief when she lost sight of him, and came out of hiding to finish her trek to the lab.

Before she'd taken two steps into the sprawling space, Tony was already irritating her with his inhuman perceptiveness.

"So, what's the deal with you two anyways?" he quipped without looking away from his computer screen. "You're obviously some kind of Enhanced, so… did ya know him before he became a Capsicle?"

"Uh… a what?" Kat stammered, caught off guard in a rare moment. She felt her hands begin to shake. _How does he know about me?_

"It wasn't hard to figure out," he continued, unfazed. "Dr. Banner is undeniably the leading authority on gamma radiation; why would they bring someone else on unless they brought something to the table only they had. Left it at the obvious conclusion that you're… _something_ else."

Kat felt her entire body go rigid at his insinuating tone. A thousand different thoughts were running through her head, but the voice of her Nana rang clearer than the rest of them. " _Rise above…"_ she said, with that sweet smile she always carried. _"Their scrutiny can only hurt you if you let it."_

She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves and calming her anger all at once. "Not that it's any of your business," she replied in a low voice, "but yes… _something_ like that…" Stark smirked at her slightly, but turned his attention back to the computer screen. It seemed he was done with his questions… for now.

"Have you had any luck, Miss Winters?" Bruce asked from where he sat at the low counter, running a handheld scanner over Loki's glowing scepter. The closer she stood to it, the more its energy began to affect her.

She gave Bruce as convincing a smile as she could muster. "Not much," she replied. "And please, it's _Kat_." He gave a sheepish smile and turned his attention back to the scepter.

"From what I can tell," he continued, "the energy signature from the scepter is remarkably similar to that of the cube. What can you tell?"

"It's not just that they're remarkably similar," she said, rubbing at her temple, "they're exactly the same. I've never seen anything quite like it, to be honest. Whatever powers these two objects, it comes from the same source."

"That doesn't make sense…" Bruce mumbled quietly.

"The scepter and the cube have vastly different functions," Tony cut in, glancing over at the pair of them. "If they're powered by the same source, it's obviously something extraterrestrial."

"Well, given what we know about Loki…" Kat let the end of the statement hang, dwelling on her own thoughts. If she could find out what powered these two objects, it would help her in locating the Tesseract. And it seemed the only way to find out what was powering them was…

She turned on her heel quickly and headed towards the door. "Where are you going?" Dr. Banner called after her.

"I need to talk to someone," she said back over her shoulder, striding out of the lab and down the hallway with renewed purpose. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she thought about what she was preparing to do. She thought herself brave, but she knew Steve and Director Fury would think her crazy.

It didn't matter. If they were ever going to locate the cube before the other shoe dropped, she had to do this.

 

* * *

 

The room was colder than she'd thought it would be; but maybe it was just the effect of the icy cold glare she was receiving from the cell in front of her. He was like a feral cat, prowling back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, a hungry look in his eye and that same smirk plastered on his unnervingly handsome face.

"I had wondered how long it would take you to come to me," he purred quietly. "It seems I didn't have to wait long at all."

"Why don't you cut the crap, Loki?" she bit out in a hostile tone. Kat wasn't in the mood to play games, which was all Loki did. She'd dealt with subjects like him before, just never to this magnitude. "We both know that you're exactly where you want to be. What _I_ don't know, is why."

"Very direct," he chuckled. "I'm impressed. Usually, you Midgardians are too timid to look me in the eye, let alone address me the way you just have. So I have to wonder… what makes you different?"

"I'm not here to talk about me," she said harshly. Loki's bright eyes remained fixed on her as she stepped forward. "I'm here to talk about the cube."

"Isn't everyone?" he asked with a smirk.

"Well, that's the million dollar question… So where is it?"

He let out a bellow of laughter. "I must applaud you on your obstinacy, but I fear your attempt at bravery has fallen short at childishness."

Kat had expected him to mock her. What she hadn't expected, however, was for it to affect her at all. She began to feel her courage wavering slightly; the doubt was creeping in, and the fear was beginning to take hold. It was one thing to imagine confronting Loki, a god of mischief and trickery in his own right, but to actually _do it_ … that was something entirely different.

"Let's return to your original question, shall we?" he continued nonchalantly. "As you said, we both know that I'm exactly where I wish to be. But the more interesting question, in my mind, is why are _you_ here, Miss Winters?"

The fact that he knew her name shouldn't have come at all as a surprise, but it still sent an icy shock through her body to hear the words pass his lips. "I would have thought that'd be obvious," she said, less sure now. "I'm a SHIELD consultant… this is a SHIELD operation. It really isn't that hard of a puzzle to piece together."

"You're right," he conceded, "it's isn't difficult… when you're only looking at part of the entire picture." He was quiet for a few moments, just looking her over in that unnerving way of his. "It's clear that you seem to think you know me, Miss Winters… But here is what I know about you."

Kat couldn't help herself scoffing at that, but she gestured for him to continue all the same. "You think yourself an abomination; somehow unworthy of existing in the same plane as the mortals surrounding you. And so you throw yourself into a life of serving them; of proving that you deserve to live as they do. But it's never enough, is it, Katherine? They still scorn you; despise you; look at you as a monster. You're forced to hide your true power beneath a mask; pretend that you couldn't rule over them if you wished.

"All I want, is to put them in their place. To show them that they are nothing in the grand scheme of the universe, and allow extraordinary individuals, such as yourself, to live in their rightful place. Is that not what you desire?"

The more he spoke, the more Kat could feel his power beginning to affect her. His words sounded like honey, spreading warmth through her chest and over her body. It sounded wonderful, when he said it like that. But there was that ever-present niggling at the back of her mind… that Loki's enticing promises never came without a cost. But she didn't have to let him know that.

"You want to… to set me free?" she said, allowing an air of hope to enter her voice.

A wicked smile spread across Loki's face. "That is all I have ever wanted. There are millions of others like you, Miss Winters. All of you living in shadow; hiding your true selves, all the while yearning for the light. I wish to break your chains."

"Well," she hedged, casting her eyes at the floor, "it sounds good on paper. But how would you do it?" She stepped closer to the cell, almost touching the glass. Loki's power lay in his ability to seduce—not necessarily in a sexual way, but to promise whatever the person listening desired most, convincing them wholeheartedly that he could provide whatever they wanted. But two could play at that game.

He seemed to turn inward for a moment, questioning himself but on what, Kat didn't know. And then, a more genuine smile graced his face. "This cage cannot hold me forever, Miss Winters. When I am free, all you must do is come with me to learn how you can be also."

She waited a few moments, adopting a look of skepticism. "How can I know this isn't a trick?" she asked.

"I'm not asking you to release me. Just to give my way a chance…" He stared at her intently for a moment, and she pretended to debate with herself.

"I'm not ready to trust you, Loki," she said seriously. "I need something more than a pretty promise. Tell me about the cube, and your scepter; where do they come from?"

"Question my brother on that matter," he replied with a smirk. "Realization will come to him, eventually." Loki stepped away from the glass and turned his back towards her, indicating he was done with their conversation.

Kat wasn't even close to being finished with him, but she let it drop, for now. They stood at an interesting position; each needing something from the other. She would need to be careful she didn't upset the balance of power. But how to get what she needed without giving Loki too much of what he wanted?\

 

* * *

 

When Kat returned to her room, there was a note laying on the floor, having been slipped through a crack under the door. She didn't recognize the handwriting, and the message was short.

_Need to talk. Cargo bay. 10pm._

Her first instinct was that Steve had left this for her. But why not just come to her? Or ask her to come to his room? There must be something down there that he needed her to see. And whatever it was, she had a feeling it didn't bring good news.


	10. Out From Under

The ticking of Kat's wristwatch was the only sound in the room, drowning everything else out and deafening her senses. Why were her nerves so on edge? What could Steve possibly have to show her that required such secrecy? It had to be something that affected the integrity of their mission. Otherwise, what was the point? Her mind was running wild; a dull ache began to pound right behind her eyes.

She glanced at her wrist: _9:45… time to go._

Her heart was racing in her chest as she walked quietly down the corridor. She was trying to be stealthy, but the fact that the floors were made of metal didn't necessarily make it easy. Slowing her pace, she glanced around a corner and down a corridor of living quarters. The ship was never really "quiet", but the hallway was deserted, at least. As fast as she could, Kat started past the corridor and continued on her way. She wasn't entirely sure she was going the right way, but it wasn't as though she could ask for directions.

It turned out to be a good thing she'd left when she did, because by the time she actually located the cargo bay, her wristwatch read 10:02. Looking around the vast space, Kat began to realize that the cargo bay was deserted. It seemed odd to her; there was always _someone_ around. The ship had to run 24/7…so where was everyone?

"You're late," a voice said from behind her. Kat turned to face her mysterious summoner. Part of her was relieved that it wasn't Steve, but her heart still fell all the same.

"Natasha?" she questioned quietly. The red-headed woman sat casually on a stack of crates.

"Not who you were expecting?" She hopped the short distance to the floor, landing gracefully like a cat. "I don't blame you for being disappointed; I'm not quite as dreamy as our resident Captain."

"That's not—" Natasha held up her hand to cut Kat off. She clamped her mouth shut, but the blood was rushing to her face all the same.

"I'm not judging," she said with a wry smile, "but I'm not blind either. Let's just get down to business, shall we?" Natasha walked past her, striding across the cargo bay with long steps. Kat followed behind as quickly as she could, but her shorter legs could barely keep up.

"You said you needed to talk," Kat blurted out between gulps of air. "So why did you drag me down here?"

"Your boyfri—" Kat shot her a warning glance, and Natasha decided to hold her tongue. "I mean… Captain Rogers is a better investigator than I—or anyone else, it seems—gave him credit for." Agent Romanov turned to face a few crates that lay nearby. With a tap of her foot, she flipped the lid off one of the crates. Inside was what looked to be a small number of semi-automatic weapons, but they looked… _off_ somehow.

"What are those?" Kat asked tentatively. "I've never seen anything like them."

"If you'd asked any other SHIELD agent on this ship that same question, they would have given you some generic answer about prototype weapons testing." She paused for a short moment, looking thoughtfully at the weapons in front of them. "But the truth is, Captain Rogers is probably one of the only people left alive today that's seen one of these in action."

Realization hit Kat like a freight train, forming a cold pit in her stomach. "Hydra weapons?" she asked in disbelief. "But…what are they doing here?"

"I'm sure Steve was trying to decipher the same thing as well." Natasha replaced the lid on the crate. "This whole mission has smelled a bit fishy from the beginning… and we're beginning to see why."

Kat stewed on her thoughts for a moment. Finally, she said in a low voice, "You didn't lure me down here just to show me these weapons, did you?"

"Not quite," Natasha shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. "My sources tell me you went to see Loki today. I'd like to know what he said to you."

"You have _sources_ on this ship?" Kat asked incredulously. Natasha gave her knowing look, but made no move to answer. After a few more moments of silence, Kat heaved a sigh. "Fine, yes; I went to see Loki today."

"Can I ask why?"

"I'm having trouble pinning down the location of the cube," she explained hesitantly. "The cube and the scepter have the same energy signature, so I thought if I could speak to the owner of the cube, it might give me a clue to help in my search. I didn't expect him to tell me where it is, but… well, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about anything."

"That's… kind of his thing. Did he say anything about the scepter?"

"Nothing really. Except that he plans to use it to 'free' us."

"Us?" Natasha questioned with a raised brow.

"Others who are like me; Enhanceds and Mutants alike. He said we deserve to rule over mortals like the Asgardians do."

"Asgardians don't _rule over_ us," Natasha scoffed in derision.

"No, they're just worshipped as gods," Kat snapped back. "Not like me, or others who are like me. We're feared as abominations and _monsters_ , all because we're different."

"Careful now, Agent Winters," Natasha said quietly, "you're beginning to sound like you actually listened to him."

Kat took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "Well, he has a point. But I don't think that enslaving the human race is an effective way to bring about change and equality."

"No," she agreed amusedly, "I'd say not." Agent Romanov chewed on her lip in silent thought for a few more moments. "I'm still not sure what Loki's play is. Enslaving the human race, that's kind of his M.O. So why allow himself to be captured and brought here? Something isn't adding up."

Kat flipped a piece of hair out of her face in irritation. "Well, maybe you'll have better luck with him than I did."

Natasha gave her a small half smile. "Maybe I will," she quipped back. "You and Dr. Banner keep working on locating the cube; I'll work on Loki."

Kat gave her a small nod as she strode off, leaving her completely alone in the cargo bay. Every time she turned around, it seemed there was some other piece at play in this game of chess. And every time, she was caught off guard. It seemed high time she got out ahead of the game again.

Lucky for her, Kat wasn't the only player in this match.

 

* * *

 

"I need to talk to you… both of you." Stark and Banner seemed caught off guard when she strode into the lab the next morning. They stopped what they were doing and turned to face her.

"We're all ears," Tony quipped, spinning on his stool.

Kat gave him a sidelong look. "Fury hasn't been truthful with us."

"My encryption software could have told you that, Nancy Drew," Tony scoffed.

"He's been running it practically since he hit the bridge," Banner chimed in apologetically. "Didn't mean to steal your thunder."

"That isn't the point," she huffed quickly. "The point _is_ —"

"What are you doing, Mr. Stark?" The sound of Director Fury's voice sent a chill down her spine.

"Uh…kind of been wondering the same thing about you," Tony shot back.

"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract… _all_ of you."

"We are," Banner said hastily. "The model's locked and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have the location within half a mile."

"And you'll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss." Kat opened her mouth to interject, but before the words could come out, there was a soft beeping emanating from Tony's monitor. "So," Stark continued, "what is Phase 2?"

Kat's blood ran cold when she felt that familiar energy. "Phase 2 is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons." Steve dropped one of the assault rifles she'd seen last night on the table in front of them. She looked up at him in surprise, and saw there was only anger there. "Sorry," he directed towards Tony, "the computer was moving a little slow."

"Rogers," Fury said in a concillatory tone, "we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we're—"

"I'm sorry, Nick," Tony cut him off, turning his screen to show the plans for a modified version of the weapon laying in front of them. "What were you lying?"

"Looks like I was wrong," Steve growled. "The world hasn't changed a bit."

Natasha and Thor suddenly entered the lab as well, and Kat was beginning to feel very overwhelmed. There were too many energy signatures to begin with, let alone the fact that every one of them was elevated in anger.

"Did you know about this?" Banner asked Natasha heatedly.

"You might want to think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor," she shot back.

"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed."

"Loki's manipulating you," she said, trying to project an air of calm.

"And you've been doing what exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes," Banner replied, "and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

"Because of him," Fury cut in, gesturing towards Thor.

"Me?" the Asgardian asked, stunned.

Kat watched Director Fury as his expression darkened. "Last year, earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet," Thor interjected hotly.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you?" Fury asked with a raised brow. "And you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched; they can't be controlled." At this, Fury directed his gaze towards Kat.

"Like you controlled the cube?" Steve said darkly.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it," Thor interjected, "and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of war."

"What do you mean, a higher form?" Katherine asked.

"You forced our hand," Fury said. "We had to come up with something.

"Nuclear deterrent," Tony scoffed. " 'Cause that always calms everything right down."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?" Fury shot back.

It was as if a dam suddenly opened and everyone was screaming, shouting insults at one another in a vain attempt to have their voice heard. Tony and Steve squabbled with one another as Fury gnashed his teeth.

"Excuse me, did _we_ come to _your_ planet and blow stuff up?"

"Did you always give your champions such mistrust?" Thor roared back.

They continued on like this, grappling at one another's throats like rabid dogs. And there was Kat, standing in the middle feeling as though she was being pulled in a thousand different directions. So much anger, and mistrust; it was tearing her apart from the inside out. It was like there was a high-pitched whining in her ears, steadily growing louder and overtaking her senses. And underneath it all, a pulsating energy rolling off the scepter, propelling them on, though they didn't even realize it.

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos!" Thor growled at Fury, gesturing angrily.

"It's his M.O., isn't it?" Banner yelled.

"Everyone, please stop!" Kat finally found her voice, but it was too late.

"I mean, what are we, a team?" Banner continued angrily. "No, no. We're a chemical mixture. We're… we're a time-bomb!"

Fury suddenly seemed more calm, stepping towards Dr. Banner. "You need to step away."

Tony stepped toward Steve and placed an arm over his broad shoulders. "Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?"

Steve pushed him off angrily. "You know damn well why! Back off!"

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me," Tony seethed, getting in Steve's face like teenagers picking a fight in school. Kat felt her heart beating faster, into a frenzied pace.

"Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?"

Tony pondered for a moment before spouting off with his usual dose of sarcasm. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you." An image of her Uncle Bucky suddenly flashed in Kat's mind. "Yeah," Steve continued, "I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"Hmm, I think I would just cut the wire," Tony spat.

"Always a way out… You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

That seemed to strike a nerve in Tony. Kat saw his jaw tighten and could feel the fury rolling off him in red hot waves. "A hero? Like you? You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

"Hey!" Kat cut in, unable to stop herself, "that's enough! Don't you all see? This is what Loki wants!"

"Real classy, Rogers. Letting your girlfriend come to your rescue."

"I'm not—"

"She's not—!"

They both stopped when they realized they were talking over each other, but Kat could feel her anger rising. This was getting out of control.

"Put on the suit," Steve growled, "let's go a few rounds."

Thor suddenly began to laugh, surveying the scene in front of him. "You people are so petty… and tiny." Tony moved away from Steve, but his anger wasn't gone.

"Yeah, this is a team…" Bruce said quietly.

"Agent Romanov," Fury interjected, "would you escort Dr. Banner back to his—"

"Where?" Bruce cut him off. "You rented my room."

"The cell was just in case—"

"In case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know! I've tried!"

The lab fell suddenly very quiet, all eyes trained on Bruce where he stood by the scepter.

"I got low," he continued quietly, somewhat embarrassed. "I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out… So I moved on. I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk!"

Slowly, he got up from where he was sitting and walked around the counter, eyeing each and every one of them carefully. Finally, his gaze landed on Natasha, her expression unnerved. "You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanov? You wanna know how I stay calm?"

Kat's breath hitched in her throat. Natasha and Fury reached for their firearms, and Steve stepped forward in front of all of them, hands held out in a gesture of peace.

"Dr. Banner… put down the scepter," he said calmly.

Bruce looked down at his own hand in shock, seeming to not have realized he even picked up the weapon. Everything in the lab calmed considerably, allowing Kat to think straight once again.

Suddenly, something on Tony's computer beeped, drawing everyone's attention. "Got it," he said, quickly moving back to his place in front of the screen. Slowly, Bruce put the scepter back in its cradle and moved to stand beside Tony.

"Sorry, kids," he said dryly. "You don't get to see my little party trick after all."

"Have you located the Tesseract?" Thor asked intently.

"I can get there faster," Tony quipped back.

"Look, all of us—" Thor cut Steve off harshly.

"The Tesseract belongs on Asgard; no human is a match for it."

Tony made to leave the lab, but Steve stepped in front of him, stopping him with his larger frame. "You're not going alone," Steve commanded, sounding every inch the soldier.

"You going to stop me?"

"Put on the suit, let's find out."

 _Here we go again,_ Kat thought with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man," Tony said.

"Put on the suit," he growled once more.

"That's enough!" Kat snapped, pushing between the two of them but keeping her eyes on Steve. "You two fighting like schoolchildren won't solve anything."

"Oh my god…" Banner said intensely, drawing everyone's attention to him. Tony made to speak, but he never got a chance.

An explosion rocked the ship, throwing everyone in all directions. As Kat fell, she felt Steve's hand on her arm, but it fell away quickly and she was sent careening across the lab. A row of cabinets broke her fall, but not gently. Steve was diagonal to her, looking at Tony where he stood leaning heavily against a table.

"Put on the suit!" Steve said, more insistent this time.

"Yep!" Tony agreed, hurrying out of the lab and down the corridor.

Before Kat could blink, Steve was at her side, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her cheek. "Are you alright?" he asked, searching her face in a frenzy for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine," she said hurriedly. "Go on." She thought he might have wanted to say something, but whatever it was, he held it in.

"Okay," he said quietly, "I want you to go back to your quarters and stay there. Got it?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, got it." He stared at her for a moment; one last attempt to make sure she was okay. Kat pulled him towards her and planted a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. "Be careful, Steve."

He nodded and stood up, making his way out of the lab as well. Fury was also collecting himself off the floor, speaking gruffly into his earpiece. Emergency alarms blared over the ships speakers, mixing with the sound of shouts and machinery working overtime.

"Hill!" Fury yelled into his earpiece. She couldn't hear what they were discussing, but whatever it was, Fury wanted Tony to be aware. "Coulson! Initiate official lock down in the detention section then get to the armory. Move out!"

Kat looked around the lab, suddenly realizing that Natasha and Bruce were nowhere to be seen. In their place was a gaping hole in the floor from the explosion. She limped over to the hole, a sharp pain in her ankle, and looked down as far as she could see. It seemed to go down all the way to the cargo level, but there was no sign of either of her teammates.

"Miss Winters," Fury growled through clenched teeth. "You need to get to safety. Take this." He handed her a clear key card ringed in light blue. "Get to the bridge, and find your way to my office. Agent Hill will get you to the right place."

"Got it," she breathed quietly, slipping the key card into her jean pocket. There were a few hundred questions running through her mind at the moment, but she kept them to herself, deciding that now wasn't the time.

As fast as she could, she hurried out of the lab and into pandemonium. Hundreds of people flooded the hallways, running every which way on different tasks. She didn't belong with any of them, but found a few people that seemed to be headed toward the bridge and tagged along behind them. A thought suddenly struck her halfway there, and she peeled off from the group she'd been following.

Amid chaos, it was difficult to tell exactly where she was, but she eventually made it to the familiarity of her living quarters. Inside, it was almost possible to believe there was nothing going on outside. But the pounding beat of adrenaline in her chest told a different story. Frantically, Kat dug through the drawer of her nightstand until she located the bowie knife hidden there at the back. It had belonged to her great-uncle once, and she hoped now that his spirit would be with her. Kat needed all the help she could get.

Kat hurried out of her room and moved quickly towards the bridge. When she got there, Fury stood at the helm, looking calm once more.

"Bring the carrier inwards and head south. Take us to the water," he commanded.

"Why water?" a helmsman asked. "Navigations recalibrated after the engine failure."

"Is the sun coming up?!" Fury roared.

"Yes, sir."

"Then put it on the left!" he said pointedly. "Get us over water! One more turbine goes down and we drop." Kat's heart skipped a beat at the mention of falling from the sky.

"Agent Winters," a voice said from behind her. She turned to see Agent Hill trying to regain her composure. "Come with me." Kat nodded and followed the other woman through the bridge and down a small corridor she'd never noticed before. At the end was a sliding metal door, like all the others on the ship, but this one had a different entry keypad than the rest. "The card, please?" Agent Hill asked, holding a hand over her shoulder.

Kat placed it in the palm of her hand and waited while the SHIELD agent worked at the keypad. After a few short moments, the keypad beeped quietly and the door slid open.

"You'll be safe in here," Agent Hill said. "Do not, under any circumstances, open the door, alright?" Kat indicated her understanding with a nod, which Agent Hill returned. She didn't say anything else, only turned and returned to her duties at Fury's side.

Inside the office, it was quiet. She could still hear the sounds of chaos through the ventilation, but it was far away, like Nana was watching a loud movie in the other room. Slowly, she looked at the space around her. It wasn't quite what she expected, but then, she didn't really know Director Fury all that well. Everything was crisp and clean; sterile. Nothing was strewn about where it wasn't supposed to be; there was a place for everything, and everything was in its place.

On the glass-top desk, there was a built-in display showing four different views off security cameras from around the ship. One showed the bridge, another the now-empty laboratory Banner and Stark had been working in, the third the detention center, and the last showed the interior of the hangar bay. Kat sat in the swivel chair behind the desk, surveying the scenes in front of her. The hangar bay was absolute chaos, with pilots running around and crewmembers attempting to ready the aircraft for whatever might call them away.

On the screen that showed the detention center, she could see Loki prowling like a tiger, pacing back and forth in his cell and always looking outward, waiting for whatever he'd planned to come to fruition. She noticed a small icon in the shape of a megaphone with a red "x" over it. By tapping it, she could suddenly listen in on the unified communications network.

Tony and Steve were communicating frantically about the engine that was down. It seemed Tony was trying to start it up again, but he needed Steve's help, and it wasn't going well. She wished she could be there to help him; it didn't matter if she was utterly useless, she just hated feeling helpless.

Suddenly, another explosion rocked the hellicarrier, sending her chair rolling backwards. The bridge was thrown into chaos, and she saw several men dressed in black storming the bridge, firing their weapons wildly. Director Fury was thrown back but Agent Hill quickly came to his aid, and they dispatched the rest of their assailants.

After the threat was neutralized on the bridge, some new voices jumped on the comms. She couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Thor and Bruce had made it to the hangar bay. But… why were they fighting? Kat's gaze shifted to the fourth screen in the lower right-hand corner. She saw a green blur flash across the bottom of the screen, and she knew what had happened. Bruce had turned into the Hulk.

She'd had a feeling this would happen, and it seemed to be part of Loki's plan. But why? Why did he purposefully allow himself to get captured? Was it all just a ploy to get the team to tear itself apart from the inside? She didn't think Loki would count on being able to break free of his cell… Or would he?

A spike of fear ran through her; the icy cold touch of sheer determination… _Someone was here._

There was a deafening screech of metal as a ventilation hatch swung downward and a figure dropped to the floor, black combat boots landing with a thud. The mercenary stood up straight, slowly, staring at her with eyes the color of ice. But it wasn't natural; this wasn't a human being with the free will of thought. This was a puppet.

Kat backed away as far as she could, finding herself cornered against a case of books. With trembling fingers, she reached for the knife at her hip and drew it out, failing to convince even herself.

"Just come with me, little girl," the soldier said mirthlessly, "it'll be less painful for you."

"Try me," she growled quietly, trying to sound brave. But she was afraid the effect was less-than-threatening. The soldier gave a careless shrug and stepped towards her.

She raised her knife, balling her other hand into a fist. As the mercenary drew closer to her, she slashed at his arm wildly. But he shied away from her with a smirk and continued on his mission. One large hand closed around her throat, suddenly cutting off all her air, while the other wrapped around her wrist to stop her knife from driving home, straight through the soldier's neck. He threw her back against the wall, knocking her head painfully with a smack.

Kat gasped for breath, seeing the edges of her vision go black and trying to block out the ringing in her ears. She struggled against his forceful grip, trying to cry out but finding that she had no voice. His eyes glowed that unnatural blue, and a wicked smirk spread across his face.

"I told you just to come with me, little girl," he seethed. "Shoulda listened."

A knot was beginning to form in her chest as the oxygen was stolen from her lungs. But instead of stealing her life-force away, Kat found that it gave her one final push. With every ounce of strength she had left, she brought her knee up into the man's gut, causing him to double over in pain when the blow landed slightly lower than she'd intended. It didn't matter though; his grip fell free of her throat and precious air flooded her lungs.

"Screw you, asshole," she rasped, giving one last kick to his ribs for good measure. The soldier groaned in pain as she stepped over him, depositing her knife back into its sheath. When she reached the door, she made to grab where a handle should have been. But her fingers only found empty space. This room was supposed to be secure from the outside; she never thought she'd have trouble getting out.

Frantically, she began pounding on the door, desperately searching for some way to open it from the inside. But if there was a way to do so, she couldn't find it. Kat tried to cry out, but her throat burned white hot from the abuse it had just suffered; she couldn't make a sound.

Suddenly, a lance of pain ran through the back of her head, causing her vision to go blurry and buckling her knees beneath her. Her head hit the door with a thud, and she could vaguely feel a trickle of warmth running down her cheek. A shadow moved across her vision, taking her by the shoulders. But by the time she realized what was happening, Kat was already slipping into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

_The whirring of machinery; low voices speaking in hushed tones; the pitch and tilt of an aircraft. Scattered images pieced together haphazardly. Energy… three, no… four. Where am I?_

"You did well," a low voice said from behind her where she lay against cold metal. "If nothing else came from this mission… I needed her."

"What is she, anyways? I'd like to know the reason I've got a few bruised ribs."

"She's the key," the other voice responded, so quiet Kat could barely hear. "The key to unlocking a much larger puzzle. Believe me, she's worth every inch of your injured pride." There was a scoff from the other person, but he said no more.

Kat tried to force her eyes open, but they didn't seem able to bend to her will. The dull ache in her head pounded louder as she felt herself slipping back into unconsciousness. What did he mean she was a key? Why had Loki taken her? And more importantly, _where_ was he taking her?


	11. The Death of Me

Hours passed before Steve even realized she was missing.

The aftermath of Loki's attack had been pure chaos. When the dust had cleared, and they'd discovered Agent Coulson's death, there hadn't been a chance to think about anything else. They had to mobilize; regroup and figure out a way to stop Loki from carrying out his plan. Everything was happening so quickly… by the time he realized, it had been too late.

Steve had told her to wait in her quarters. Why hadn't she gone there! It didn't make any sense…

He had come to her quarters to make sure she was alright, and let her know what was about to happen next. But he'd found the door to her room locked, and no one responding to his knocks. It took about five minutes for him to fetch Agent Hill and get her to manually override the door's locking mechanism. When it opened to reveal her quarters empty, Steve felt a pit forming in his stomach.

He'd gone on a desperate search across the ship after that, employing the help of anyone he could find. Eventually, Director Fury informed him that he'd secured Kat in his office off the bridge. With his heart pounding practically out of his chest, Steve had followed Director Fury down the narrow hallway to, quite possibly, the most secure place on the ship. He allowed himself a small measure of hope as Fury used his keycard to open the door.

What he saw inside caused his hands to shake…

There were obvious signs of a struggle. Papers and affidavits littered the floor; Fury's armchair was knocked on its side; his desk was in shambles. She'd tried to fight whoever had come for her… and they'd taken her out of the ventilation shaft.

"Dammit!" Steve cried angrily, pounding a clenched fist on the metal desk. "What the hell happened?"

Fury's face didn't even flinch. "Loki obviously had another agenda we were not aware of," he said through a clenched jaw. "His plans involve Miss Winters in a way I don't understand… yet." Steve didn't waste time with any more words. He stormed out of the office, heading back towards the bridge without really having a plan in mind. The image of those blood-stained cards intruded on his thoughts…

Steve made his way through the ruined ship, past bodies and debris piling up, one on top of another. He'd seen battlefields before, but this… it seemed such a waste.

When he got to the detention section, Steve realized he wasn't the only one who'd thought to come here. Tony stood with his back to him, arms crossed over his chest. Steve wasn't trying to be quiet, but if Tony knew he was there, he gave no indication.

After a brief moment of silence, Steve said, "Was he married?" It wasn't great, but it was something to break the awkward tension of the room.

Tony shook his head. "No. There was a uh… cellist, I think."

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

"He was an idiot," Tony retorted without missing a beat.

"Why?" Steve shot back. "For believing?"

"For taking on Loki alone."

Steve let that sink in a moment. "He was doing his job," he continued, staring hard at the wall.

"He was out of his league," Tony said mirthlessly, almost laughing. "He should have waited. He should have…" Whatever else he'd been about to say faded into silence.

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right," Tony said sternly, walking away from Steve. "How did that work for him?"

Steve followed behind him, easily keeping up with the shorter man. "Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" The question hadn't been meant to rile him, but everything seemed to rile the enigmatic Tony Stark.

"We are not soldiers!" he shouted, turning sharply to face Steve. "I am not marching to Fury's fife!"

"Neither am I!" Steve roared back, puffing out his chest without meaning to. "He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does. Right now, we've got to put that aside and get this done." Tony seemed to settle down a bit, so Steve surged ahead with what he was thinking. "Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list—"

"He made it personal," Tony said, cutting him off and gazing back at the streaks of blood that flowed down the wall.

"Tony, believe me, I know. He took Kat... But that's not the point." As much as it pained him, he couldn't place her safety at the forefront of his mind. Loki was a bigger threat than any of them imagined, but he'd taken enough care to make sure Kat made it off the helicarrier alive. Why? He had to trust that whatever his intentions were involved her staying alive.

"That is the _point_ ," Tony snarled back. " _That's_ Loki's point. He hit us all right where we live… Why?"

"To tear us apart," Steve replied simply, sternly. Why couldn't he understand?

"He had to conquer his greed, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants…" Tony paused for a moment. "He wants to beat us, and he wants to be seen doing it… He wants an audience."

"Right," Steve said slowly, "I caught his act at Stuttengard."

"Yeah, and that's just the preview; this is opening night. Loki's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades—" Tony's voice began to take on a frantic tone "—he wants a monument built in the skies with his name plastered—!" Realization hit Tony like a freight train, darkening his face with rage. "Son of a bitch," he said quietly, turning away from Steve on an unknown purpose.

Tony hadn't said as much, but Steve got the feeling he could count on Tony for his help.

 

* * *

 

Natasha seemed surprised to see him stride into the medical bay. Her distrusting gaze swept over him, standing there in his grimy uniform with what had to have been a frightening look on his face.

"Time to go," he said simply.

"Go where?" she asked warily.

"I'll tell you on the way." Agent Barton came out of the restroom at that moment, surveying the scene with interest. "Can you fly one of those things?" Steve asked him, jerking his head toward the hangar bay and an awaiting quinjet.

"I can," he replied confidently. Steve looked both of them square in the eye and nodded. Natasha nodded her assent as well, though it remained unspoken.

Steve looked back at Clint. "You got a suit?" he asked.

"Yeah," he replied satisfactorily.

"Then suit up." Steve couldn't help the small smirk that made its way to his face. For the first time in a long time, he felt like something was going to get done; something that felt like it was worth it.

He left those two in the med bay to prepare, aiming to locate Tony to finalize their plans. Whatever differences they'd had before, they needed to set them aside; not only for the greater good, but for the good of the team. Because like it or not, they worked better together than they did apart, that much was clear. They couldn't allow Loki to win, not like this. If he beat them, he'd have to beat them as one functioning unit; he'd have to beat them as the Avengers.

 

* * *

 

When Kat awoke, she was surrounded by darkness. Whether that was because of the room, or if because it was night, she couldn't be sure; her eyes hadn't yet adjusted. What she was sure of, however, was that her hands were bound behind her back. Not tight enough to cause pain, but there was no way she'd be able to wriggle out of them.

She looked down and saw a marble floor, polished and gleaming to perfection. Her back was up against something glass, which she guessed to be a shower after noticing the claw foot tub across the room. She was in the bathroom of a very expensive house, if she had to guess. Now that her eyes had adjusted as well, she could see daylight peeking in under the door.

Footsteps sounded in the room beyond the door, but no one spoke. Another few minutes passed by in silence, but she couldn't pick anything else up. So be it…

"Hey!" she screamed, slamming her back against the glass and creating a deep thrumming sound that reverberated throughout the bathroom. "Hey, let me out!" The footsteps she'd heard before hurried towards the bathroom, stopping at the door.

Kat heard the static of a two-way radio. "Houseguest is awake," a low, male voice said. The reply was too garbled, she couldn't make out what they said. "Understood," the same voice replied. She recognized it as the man who'd kidnapped her off the helicarrier.

"Hey!" she screamed, causing her throat to burn painfully.

A fist slammed against the bathroom door. "Shut up, you bitch!" the man yelled ferociously. Kat fell silent, heart pounding in her ears, and waited for the footsteps to recede. When she was sure he was gone, she began to scoot herself across the floor. It was so sleek with polish, the task was easy enough. What would be hard was finding a way to open the drawers while making as little noise as possible.

Slowly, painfully, she positioned her legs underneath her so that she was in a squatting position. Her muscles and bones ached from her altercation with the brainwashed SHIELD agent, but she had to push that aside. When she was finally standing, her hands grappled with empty air before locating a drawer knob.

As quietly as she could, she slid the drawer open. Kat inched around to the side of the open drawer so she could awkwardly reach into it and feel around for anything useful. There were a few extra hand towels and a bar of soap, but nothing that could help her cut through the bonds around her wrists. She repeated the motions with the second drawer, where she found a small, cloth pouch with a zipper. Her hands shook as she unzipped the pouch. When she finally had it open, she tried to identify its contents by touch. Some cloth… small strips of paper… a plastic container…

Kat tried to stifle her exclamation of joy upon realizing it was a first aid kit. She located the small pair of scissors hidden within and placed the kit back in the drawer, closing it quietly. It was awkward, trying to position the scissors correctly, but she was able to cut through her cloth restraints after a few minutes of concentrated effort. When she was free, she worked the strip of cloth back around in her hands, so she could retie it looser than before. They'd be under the impression she was still restrained, without realizing she had the scissors tucked safely up her sleeve.

As she made the last few tugs at the cloth, the heavy footfalls she'd heard before made their return. Frantically, she gave it one last pull and tried to make herself look defeated, incapable of resisting. The door flew open, flooding the room with blinding light from the room beyond, let in by a wall made entirely of glass. The figure of her kidnapper was outlined in pure white, while his features remained shadowed.

"Time to go," he said gruffly, striding across the large bathroom with a few, long steps and hauling her to her feet roughly.

She fought back weakly, making pathetic sounds as he dragged her from the bathroom and into the larger living space. The room was sprawling, encompassing living room, kitchen, and bar all in one space. It was full of modern furniture and expensive electronics. It took her a moment, but she realized this could only be one person's house.

"So kind of you to join us," the self-satisfied voice purred from behind her. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever grace us with your presence."

The agent that had her in his grasp suddenly shoved her to the floor, making her knees smack the ground painfully. She cried out, against her better judgment, and let the tears of pain fill her eyes.

"Now, now," Loki cooed like some concerned mother, "we want her in one piece." He strolled into Kat's view, bending down ever so slightly. "I've been asked to deliver her unharmed, so unharmed she shall be."

"What do you want with me?" she spat viciously, struggling into a position better suited to looking that bastard in the eye. Behind her, she heard the SHIELD agent leave the room.

Infuriatingly, Loki began to laugh in the most condescending way imaginable. "Want with _you_?" he exclaimed heartily. "My dear, I couldn't care less about an insect upon my shoe. No… my benefactor is the one who wants you alive."

She tried not to let her confusion show, but guessed she'd done a poor job of it when Loki smirked at her, pointing his scepter at her chest.

"It would be so simple," he continued quietly, "to bend you to my will. I could make you do whatever I want, you know." He leaned down closer to her, mere inches from her face. Kat couldn't help the flinch that took over her, making her jump back from him. He chuckled at her again. "But that would negate our arrangement."

"Whose arrangement?" she demanded, trying to sound threatening.

"Don't worry yourself about that," Loki replied, standing slowly and turning slightly away from her. "You'll find out soon enough. Just know that you're very valuable to him, which makes you safe from any wrath I might wish upon you. Count yourself lucky in that regard."

"Guess I better start playing the craps table," she spat, holding onto her small victory when she saw confusion pass over Loki's face. But his arrogant façade quickly returned, and her hold was gone. As inconspicuously as she could manage, she began to slide the scissors down her arm, working them towards her palm. If she could just get a moment, catch him off guard…

Kat's scheming was cut short when the roar of engines shook the windows of Stark Tower. Her eyes found the darting form of Tony's suit, and her heart swelled with hope. If Tony was here, that meant Steve would be nearby as well.

"I wouldn't start counting your blessings yet, Midgardian," Loki seethed. "Your escort will be here shortly, and then you'll be beyond the reach of any of them, _especially_ your Captain."

"Don't bet on it," she spat, lurching forward. Loki turned away from her, towards the balcony where she could see Tony Stark striding confidently towards them. She only hoped he had a plan, and that it involved kicking Loki's ass.


	12. Nothing and Everything

"Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," Loki said in that drawling manner of his. Kat's pulse quickened as she saw Tony had removed all of his armor, strolling towards them completely exposed and completely unarmed. _What is that idiot thinking!_

"Uh… actually," he said pointedly, "I'm going to threaten you."

"You should have left your armor on for that." Kat could hear the smirk in Loki's voice.

"Tony—" she hissed, but was quickly cut off by Loki's razor-sharp gaze.

"Quiet, you insolent wretch," he snapped. "You'll be dealt with shortly."

It took everything in Kat to bite her tongue, but she needed Loki to stay distracted. It was the only way the plan she was formulating had any hope of working. Slowly, the Asgardian turned back to where Tony stood, leaning casually up against his bar.

"Yeah, it's seen a bit of mileage," Stark continued without missing a beat. "You've got the blue stick of destiny. Would you like a drink?"

"Stalling me won't change anything," Loki hissed, steadily walking toward Tony. Kat began to work at the loose knot she had tied on her restraints; she had to hold back her anticipation as the bonds fell away easily.

"No, no, no!" Tony replied, holding up a hand. "Threatening. No drink? You sure? I'm having one." Kat controlled the urge to roll her eyes, fighting to maintain composure. Now that she was free, she just needed Loki to get close.

"The Chitauri are coming," Loki continued, unfazed by Stark's nonchalant manner. "Nothing will change that. What have I to fear?"

Tony took a swig of the drink he'd just poured, eyes trained on the glass. Without an ounce of fear or apprehension, he said, "The Avengers." Kat couldn't help the smirk that came to her lips when she saw Loki balk at Tony's comment. "It's what we call ourselves," he continued on, "sort of like a team. 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' type of thing."

Loki scoffed. "Yes, I've met them."

Tony gave him a wide, shit-eating grin that almost had Kat laughing. "Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one." He pushed up out of the chair he'd taken residence in. "But –" he shot Kat a furtive glance "—let's do a head count here. Your brother, the demi-God; a super soldier, a living legend who _kind of_ lives up to the legend—" Tony continued counting on his fingers and strolling in a wide circle to the back of the bar "—a man with _breath-taking_ anger management issues; a couple master assassins, and you, big fella…you've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"Well, that was the plan."

"Not a great plan." Tony shook his head in an admonishing gesture, as though he were speaking to a child. "When they come, and they will; they'll come for you." Tony set his drink down on the counter, and Kat thought she saw him bend over slightly… Did he have something up his sleeve too?

"I have an army," Loki said, voice cold as stone.

Tony gave a slight shrug. "We have a Hulk."

"I thought the beast had wandered off."

"You're missing the point," Tony shot back. "There's no throne. There's no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes…and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it."

Slowly, quietly, Kat began to inch her way across the floor, aiming to get closer to Loki without him noticing. She felt the weight of the scissors in her hand, adjusting slightly. But then Loki began to move, walking towards Tony at the bar.

"How will your friends have time for me, when they're so busy fighting you?" With a wicked grin, he placed the point of his scepter directly in the center of Tony's chest. Kat braced herself for some earth-shattering explosion, but nothing happened. Loki glanced at his scepter in silent rage. Again, he placed the tip of the scepter on Tony's chest with a slight _ping!_ And again, nothing happened. "It should work!" the Asgardian seethed.

"Well, performance issues. Ya know?" Tony jibed. Loki's hand shot out, wrapping around Tony's throat and flinging him across the room. Kat knew that was her moment.

She vaulted forward, whipping the scissors out from behind her and jabbing them as far as they would go into Loki's leg. He howled in pain, glaring down at her and whipping her face with a vicious backhand. She cried out at the sudden pain, but was quickly back in a crouching position, ready to strike again when the opportunity presented itself. The scissors remained clenched in her hand, dripping fresh blood.

But Loki continued to where Tony was laying haphazardly on the floor. "Jarvis," Tony said quietly but insistently, "anytime now." Loki stooped down and grabbed him by the throat once more, gripping tightly and hauling him to his feet. Kat felt her stomach lurch as she realized how dangerously close to the window the two of them were.

"You will fall before me," he said with a sinister smile.

Kat couldn't help but notice how unfazed Tony looked as he was thrown out the window, plummeting more than a hundred stories to certain death. A scream escaped her throat, unbidden but raw all the same. She was on her feet in an instant, aiming a blow of the scissors right between the Asgardians shoulder blades.

She was almost upon him when the elevator doors slid open and a bright red pod shot between them, knocking her to her back. The pod sped out the window that Tony had just been thrown from, and Loki watched its descent with a hateful gaze. Mere moments later, Kat saw the Iron Man suit zoom up the building and into the sky. She scrambled to the window and saw him hovering there, palm raised to attack.

"And there's one other person you pissed off!" he exclaimed. "His name was Phil."

At the same moment Loki raised his scepter to aim at Tony, a beam of light shot from Tony's palm, knocking Loki square in the chest. He flew backwards across the room into a decorative wall, destroying it in a matter of moments. Kat looked back at Tony where he hovered in mid-air. He touched a gauntleted hand to his temple, and part of the mask parted so she could see his face.

"I suggest you make yourself like a tree, Agent. Things are about to get a little squirrely."

She moved closer to the shattered opening of the window and stopped just short of falling through herself. "Where's Steve?" she called over the open space between them.

"Don't worry, the cavalry is coming. You need to—"

The building shook beneath her feet, feeling as though it was swaying wildly, though she knew it was just her. Tony had replaced his mask and was staring at the sky. "Right. Army," she heard him say faintly. He angled his head back towards her. "Street level. Cap and the others will be here soon." Without another word, Tony shot into the sky, clearing the tops of the buildings in mere seconds. Kat gazed after him in wonder, and then her eyes found the sky beyond him.

It was a remarkably clear day—or rather, it would have been if not for the gaping hole in the sky. Beyond the clear, light blue, she could see the empty, endless expanse of space, dotted here and there with stars. Suddenly, a multitude of _things_ began to pour from the vast opening. She could only assume these were the Chitauri Loki had mentioned earlier, and their day had just gotten a hell of a lot worse. A swell of energy signatures hit her, causing her to stagger and lose her balance.

A frantic wind whipped at her hair as she leaned out the window, threatening to pull her down and make her ascent to the street a lot faster. She drew back into the apartment and made her way to the elevator, noticing that Loki was nowhere to be seen.

It didn't matter; she had other things to worry about. Like the alien army currently reigning terror on the city. How were they supposed to combat that many soldiers? And alien solders at that… It seemed to her they were vastly outmatched, and a cold pit began to form in her stomach. The elevator jolted slightly in its descent, making her grip the sides tightly. It would be just her luck to come all this way and die in an elevator crash.

But she reached the bottom safely and exited into a lobby filled with chaos. There was debris all over the floor, and chunks of the ceiling were missing. A haze of dust filled the air, and there were people everywhere; running, screaming, nursing injuries to the best of their ability. It felt like she'd entered a warzone… she supposed she had.

There was a woman—dark hair in a frenzied mess and eyes wide with panic—who seemed to be attempting to maintain control. She was shouting something incoherent at a man attending to a woman whose head was bleeding profusely from a nasty gash. As Kat looked around the hectic lobby, she realized she couldn't just leave these people to fend for themselves.

She crossed the lobby carefully, dodging debris and people alike. When she finally reached the dark-haired woman, she stared at Kat like she was some kind of angel.

"What's happening?" the woman asked shakily, reaching for Kat's hand.

Kat felt she was way out of her depth here, but she took the woman's trembling hand all the same. "The city's under attack," she replied, as calmly as she could manage in the given situation. "This building is not safe. We need to get everyone out, and try to get them to safety."

"Where do we go?" she questioned, more franticly this time.

Kat chewed at her bottom lip nervously. The truth was, she didn't really know. With an army of alien combatants raining down on the city, was there anywhere in the world considered "safe"?

"Try to get out of the city," she finally said. "If you can't get out, get under. Subways, basements, whatever you can find. Just get as far away from the fighting as you can. Okay?" The woman nodded warily and looked around the room, drawing the attention of a couple men who Kat thought might be security guards. The woman relayed Kat's message and finally released her hand. Kat spoke to a few more people in the lobby and idled for a few minutes until most of the people had left, either under their own volition, or with help.

Outside, the world was even more chaotic. Everywhere there were fires and mini explosions set off by the Chitauri's weapons. People ran in a stampede to try and get away, but there was nowhere to run. Cars blocked off every route in Kat's vision, abandoned by their drivers as soon as the world began to end. She heard sirens coming from every direction, til it was all she could hear. A few police officers entered her field of vision, running towards the action in a valiant show of bravery. As they ran, beams of light shot down from above, catching two of them and dropping them immediately. Kat felt herself becoming queasy as the number of bodies around her became suddenly very apparent.

She needed to get out of here, and fast.

As she ran, the ground shook beneath her feet, tripping her up periodically and making her progress slow. Not to mention the hundreds upon thousands of other people sprinting right alongside her. But when the bullets began flying, they all dropped to the ground.

The sound of two .50 caliber rifles was much louder than Kat might have imagined. Especially considering they were right above her head; rather, the aircraft containing them was right above her head. A SHILED quinjet hovered in the middle of Park Avenue, blasting the Chitauri soldiers as they blindly followed Tony in his suit. When the aliens were taken care of, Tony rocketed into the sky, once more heading for the portal, and the quinjet angled itself towards Stark Tower.

She didn't know how, but Kat was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Steve was on that jet. As it moved away, a pang went through her chest.

"Stay safe," she whispered, watching it hover near the balcony where she'd just been.

It was so high, but she thought she could just glimpse two figures grappling with one another perilously close to the edge. A beam of light hurtled towards the quinjet from Loki's scepter, and struck the right side of the aircraft. Kat sucked in a heavy breath when she saw flames spouting from the engines. They were obviously in capable hands; the pilot angled the wing of the jet toward the street.

But the destruction had spread too quickly. The jet began to spiral out of control, smashing into the street and sliding a few hundred feet before coming to a halt. Kat ran to the jet, against her better judgment. The thing could blow at any minute, but she didn't care.

Suddenly, the ramp opened and slammed to the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air. She stopped short and coughed roughly as the dust entered her lungs and clouded her vision. But when the dust cleared... Steve stood before her, dressed in his suit with shield in hand. When he saw her, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Kat," he said breathlessly, striding towards her. She ran to meet him and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pressed his cheek to hers. "When we realized you were gone... I feared the worst."

"Well, the worst happened," she said quietly into his neck, eyes squeezed shut to hold back her tears. He jerked away suddenly to look her in the eye, concern masking his face. "I'm fine, Steve," she continued quickly. "He didn't do anything that can't be fixed."

"Why did he take you in the first place?" Steve questioned.

"Can we finish this little reunion some other time?" Natasha's irritated voice snapped at them. "Like maybe when there isn't an alien invasion going on?"

Kat and Steve shared a look they both knew, and then she pulled away from him completely. "Get to safety," he said. "If Loki wanted you before, he'll come after you even harder now that you've gotten away from him."

"I need to get to Nana," Kat said breathlessly, feeling her hands shake. The prospect of getting from Manhattan to Brooklyn when the world was coming to an end was not a pleasant one. "I don't know what else to do."

Steve stared at her long and hard, as if he thought this might be the last time they saw one another. "Help as many as you can," he said quietly. There was so much more between them that had gone unspoken, but there was no time. Steve jogged after Natasha and the other man Kat didn't recognize, heading towards where all the fighting seemed to be focused. Her heart ached as she watched him leave, but she was completely helpless.

_No..._ she thought firmly, _not completely._ _What good is this power if I don't learn to use it effectively? I_ have _to do something._

She was running before she realized it, feet carrying her through the destroyed streets as fast as they possibly could. A tremendous roar sounded from above, and she glanced skyward for a moment, glimpsing the tail of some _thing_ that was flying through the air. If the Chitauri had air support, they really were in trouble.

As she rounded the corner onto another street, she saw a mass of people doing their best to take cover, be it under awnings or inside buildings. A group of police officers were attempting to offer cover fire as citizens fled past them, but they were sorely outnumbered.

Ducking and covering her head, she crossed the intersection to where the police were barricaded behind their patrol cars. One of them noticed her coming and motioned for her to join the other civilians hiding underneath the awning of a bakery.

But Katherine Jean Winters was not a civilian.

She stopped next to the officer and got his attention. "Hey!" she yelled in his ear over the din of engines and weapons firing.

"Are you crazy lady?! Get over there with everyone else!" the officer said over his shoulder, not even looking at her.

"Hey!" she repeated, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to look at her. "We need to get these people to safety. _Now._ "

"What the hell does this look like?" the officer demanded hotly.

"It looks like a bunch of sitting ducks. These people need to get underground, and quickly." The officer looked at her like she had three heads. "Fine," she growled, turning away from the group of police and hurrying over to the terrified-looking people all huddled together.

"Listen!" she said forcefully, eyeing them sternly. "I know you all don't know me, but you're not safe here. We need to get underground!"

"Why should we listen to you?" one man asked gruffly.

A wave of energy rolled over her, causing her to stagger slightly. It was red hot and burning intensely, hurtling towards them through the air with unstoppable power.

"Because," she snapped, "there is an ancient, alien-leviathan headed straight for us, and I am the only one who can guide you safely through this city." That certainly shut them up. They stared at her with wide eyes, but she continued on, heedless of their scrutiny. "The library is half a block away. Follow me, and I will get you there unharmed. Got it?"

A few of them nodded; others looked at each other skeptically. But the look she gave them all left no room for argument. She made her way to the corner of 42nd and Madison as they followed behind, glancing both ways and feeling for any energy signatures she could identify as the Chitauri. There were hundreds of them flying overhead, but they were all focused further north, where she recognized Steve's comforting and familiar energy.

She waved the group of people following her across the street, making sure the coast remained clear as they scurried onward. They picked up more civilians as they went along, until their group was nearly a hundred strong. Kat wasn't sure when she'd become so bold, but she guessed anyone could do anything in the face of adversity.

They turned left at 5th avenue, and Kat saw the grand façade of the New York Public Library rise up in front of them. People were flooding the steps, where numerous officers and other official-looking people were directing them where to go. Kat ushered everyone in front of her, making sure there weren't any stragglers being left behind.

As she watched them sprint up the steps, everything seemed to go quiet, and an intense buzzing filled her head. Hundreds of energy signatures were headed this way; headed straight for them.

Kat screamed for one of the officers, but it was too late. A battalion of Chitauri on flying chariots suddenly appeared over 5th avenue, aiming their weapons and firing at the innocent people down below. Screams filled the air as people dove for whatever cover they could find. A blast from one of their weapons struck a vehicle near Kat, hitting the gas tank in a fiery explosion. She braced herself for the blast, but it still sent her flying across the street. Her back scraped across the asphalt painfully, and she could feel it begin to sting almost immediately.

Her head was spinning and all she could hear was a high whining, disorienting her and making it hard to get to her feet. There were people laying on the ground all around her, some of them moving... some of them not. She struggled painfully to be able to stand, and stumbled towards the library. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

As she staggered over the bodies and debris littering the road, she glanced down and saw a cellphone lying at her feet. She stooped down and picked it up, holding back tears of relief when the cracked screen lit up. She pressed the button for an emergency call, and dialed her grandmother's phone number from memory, lifting it to her ear and sending up a silent prayer.

It rang a few times, each time sending a spike of panic through her chest. Finally, on the fourth ring, the line picked up.

"Hello?" a shaky voice asked.

"Mom!" Kat exclaimed, letting the tears flow freely now. She didn't know it was possible to be so happy. "Thank god; I'm so happy to hear your voice."

"Katherine... Katherine where have you been! Where are you? Are you okay?" her mother started to ramble frantically.

"Mom, I'm okay, I'm... I'm in the city, but I'm fine."

"You're in the city?!" her mother screeched, and she could hear the shuffling of window blinds. "Katherine Jean!"

"It's okay. I'm coming home right now. You and Nana get to the laundry room, and _stay there._ Understand?" She knew she was speaking to her mother like a child right now, but she didn't really care. If anything happened to them, she'd never forgive herself.

"Yeah, okay. Mom!" her mother called away from the receiver. "Kat... hurry, please. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom. Tell Nana I love her. I'll be there soon." It felt too much like a goodbye, and she hated it. But she couldn't bear the thought of their last words to one another being anything besides ' _I love you_ '.

She hung up the cellphone and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans, in case she needed it later, and started to make her way down the street. Above everything else, she had to make sure her family was safe. And even though it hurt to know she was leaving people behind to fend for themselves, Kat began to make her way towards Brooklyn.


	13. Take It All Away

Before he'd gone into the ice, Steve thought he'd seen enough of war to last him a lifetime. It was sort of comical, now that he thought about it. The world was–quite literally–falling down around him, but everything suddenly seemed to slow. The battle was coming to its end, yet he found no comfort in that fact.

They'd put up a good fight, that much was obvious. But somebody, somewhere, had decided to take matters into their own hands; decided to take _lives_ into their own hands. Steve watched in abject horror as Tony's form appeared in between the buildings, the missile gripped tightly in his metal grasp.

"Stark," he said quietly into the comm, "you know that's a one-way trip?" Steve couldn't imagine what he'd do if he was in Tony's place. He liked to imagine he'd do the same... but now, he'd never know.

The receiving line was quiet for a long moment. Steve waited with bated breath for Tony to reply, but he never did. As he climbed higher in the sky, Steve couldn't do anything but watch. He knew Natasha was waiting on the roof of Stark tower, ready to close the portal with the power of the scepter.

Tony disappeared through the portal, taking the threat of the nuclear missile with him. Steve knew he should have been happy they weren't all going to end up flattened like pancakes from a nuclear blast... but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything.

When the missile exploded in the darkness of space, Steve could swear he'd felt the heat down on earth. It was a beautiful, terrible sight to behold... and the weight of what he had to do suddenly came crashing down on him.

Tony hadn't reappeared from the portal yet... and it was too late.

"Come on, Stark," Natasha's voice said quietly over the comms. She spoke aloud what they were all thinking. But now, Steve had to be the voice of reason.

A supernova of flame and radiation and destruction was headed right towards them; he didn't have a choice. "Close it," he said firmly, trying to cover the pain he was feeling. He could practically feel Nat's hesitation from here. But a second later, the light beam from the Tesseract disappeared. The portal began to close rapidly, but before it slammed shut, Steve witnessed a small, black figure hurtling towards the earth.

"Son of a gun!" he exclaimed excitedly, watching Tony's suit escape the portal at the very last second.

Breathless anticipation. The horror of realization.

"He's not slowing down," Thor said gruffly, swinging his hammer at his side so he could fly to Tony's aid.

But before he could even get off the ground, a huge, green figure streaked past them. The Hulk collided with Tony in mid-air, yanking him to safety. They careened into the side of a building, their descent only slowed by Hulk's arm smashing into the concrete siding. But they couldn't possibly stop their momentum from smashing them into the ground. The impact was only lessened by Hulk's broad back hitting the ground first. Finally, they slid to a halt, and Hulk flipped Tony off his chest and onto the ground.

Steve sprinted over to him, the god of thunder hot on his heels. When they reached him, Thor knelt and ripped Tony's Iron Man helmet from his face. They watched anxiously, but it didn't seem he was breathing. Before Steve could formulate what to do, the Hulk let out a ferocious roar.

Tony startled awake, eyes searching wildly all around him. "What the hell!" he exclaimed through gasping breaths. "What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me."

In spite of himself, Steve let out a slight chuckle. "We won," he said after a moment.

Tony's relief was palpable. "Alright," he breathed. "Hey, alright. Good job, guys. Let's just… not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

Thor looked up at Stark Tower, a determined set to his jaw. "We're not finished yet," he said in a low voice.

Tony's shoulders sagged. "And then shawarma after."

* * *

Loki hadn't put up a fight, seeing that his cause was lost after the Chitauri had all collapsed with the destruction of their ships. He was now safely in custody, and awaiting whatever fate was in store. They'd all actually gone for shawarma afterwards, but Steve couldn't focus. Niggling at the back of his mind was unrelenting worry for Kat and her family.

Had they made it out unscathed? Was their home still standing? Was she even alive? The questions swirled about in his mind and made it impossible for him to sit still for too long. After their meal was over, he made a quiet exit, assuring the others he'd meet up with them later. Then began the long trek through Manhattan to Brooklyn.

The city looked like a completely different world. Dust choked the air and debris littered the ground wherever he walked. Everyone he passed seemed to be walking around in a daze, staring blankly at the utter ruin around them. The few people whose eyes he met wore glassy looks, as if they were in a dream. Steve would have liked to believe this was all a dream still, the way he had when he'd first awoken from the ice. But he knew better by now.

He jogged towards the pedestrian entrance for the Brooklyn Bridge, though it didn't seem to matter. All the cars on the bridge were trapped in gridlock, the effort to escape the city having overloaded the bridge's capacity. Steve ran across the bridge, noticing how the few other pedestrians stared after him, probably not believing their eyes. Who was that crazy man in the polyester suit? Steve wasn't sure he knew either.

Brooklyn hadn't suffered as much as Manhattan had, but damage had still been done. The Chitauri had spread out further than he thought they would, wreaking havoc in whatever way they could. Cars were flipped over; buildings crumbling or on fire; people yelling for assistance with injuries… or sometimes worse fates for others.

Steve tried not to think about them. He'd done all he could today. The cleanup would begin quickly, but he needed to make sure Kat was alright first… He didn't want to think about what he'd do if she wasn't.

When he finally reached Nana's neighborhood, it was quiet. Maybe a little too quiet. There were less dead Chitauri soldiers here, but they still littered the ground. Slowing his pace, he walked the concrete path that led to the houses, willing his heart to stop its pounding. On the stoop, there were two more of the aliens, laying stacked on top of one another. With dogged steps, he ascending the stairs to her front door, palms sweating. He wouldn't have knocked, even if the door hadn't been open; he would have done what he had to in order to reach her.

With his shield raised, Steve pushed the door open further, immediately ducking behind it when he heard the discharge of a firearm, and the familiar _ping_ of a bullet bouncing off vibranium sounded in his ears. It was followed by a gasp, and Steve raised up his head to see Kat positioned at the top of the stairs, an achingly familiar M1941 Johnson rifle clutched in her hands. It even had the same scope… _Where did she get that?_

"Steve," she breathed quietly, setting the gun down on the landing. He dropped his shield unceremoniously, racing up the stairs to meet her halfway and clutching her tight to him. Whatever had happened between them before held no meaning for him any longer. All of it melted away when he pressed his lips against hers and felt her trembling shoulders beneath his hands. Salty tears ran down her face and mingled with their kiss, but he paid them no mind. All that mattered was she was _here._

"You're alive," she choked out past her sobs after pulling away. "I didn't—how did you?... It doesn't—"

"Shh," he said quietly, resting his forehead against hers. "It's okay. I'm here now." He placed a grimy hand on the back of her neck, pulling her into his chest and holding her tight. They stood like that for a long time, until a voice pierced their tenuous peace.

"Katherine! Are you alright?" her mother yelled from somewhere upstairs. Kat pulled away from him then, and he was happy to see her smiling.

"I'm fine, Mom!" she called back, wiping tears from her cheeks. She reached a hand out to Steve, and he gladly took it. "Come on, Nana will be happy to see you."

They trekked the short distance up to the landing, and Kat led him to a room he hadn't been in before. He quickly realized it was Edith's bedroom when he saw the old woman sitting up in her bed, a quilt wrapped tightly over her lap and legs.

"'Bout time you showed up," she barked, though there was teasing in her eyes.

"From the looks of the front step," he began slowly, "it doesn't look like you needed me." He shot Kat an approving glance, and didn't fail to notice the blush that crept into her cheeks. He wasn't sure when she'd learned to use Bucky's old sniper rifle, but she'd certainly become well-versed.

"What were those creatures?" Anna asked frantically, gripping her elderly mother's hand tightly. "Where did they even come from?"

"It's—" Steve paused a moment. "Hard to explain. Just know that it's over; you're all safe now."

"Thanks to Captain America, it would seem," Edith said softly, a tender smile upon her wrinkled face. Her eyes traveled down the length of his arm and rested where his hand still grasped Katherine's. If he'd lived a little less life, the knowing look in her eyes might have made him embarrassed. But right now, he couldn't care less.

"I just wanted to check on you all; make sure you were safe," he continued.

"Oh, we're quite well, thank you," Edith laughed. "Kat took good care of us." He looked over at her sheepish smile, feeling his gut twist at the sight of her. Her hair was a mess, her face streaked with grime and dirt, but right now… she was the most beautiful thing he'd seen since entering the 21st century.

* * *

Kat stood a good distance away from the spectacular individuals assembled before her. Weeks had passed since the Battle of New York, and the time had come for Loki and Thor to return to Asgard; what better place than Central Park? She leaned against the trunk of a broad shade tree, sunglasses shielding her retinas from the noonday sun.

Dr. Banner carefully removed the Tesseract from its case, and, using a pair of tongs, moved it into another containment unit, this one far more intricate and complex. It was a glass cylinder, surrounded by a gold structure that formed two handles, one on each end. As soon as the cube was safely contained once more, she could see the relief in Thor's shoulders and tight stance.

Thor shook hands with everyone in the group, then turned towards her and gave a slight wave. She gave him a two-finger salute in return and watched as he held out the Tesseract towards his brother. They'd taken great care with him this time, shackling his wrists and placing a muzzle on his face. The god of mischief reached out and took hold of the gold handle closest to him. Thor twisted his handle to the left, and a beam of azure energy shot out of the cube and into the sky, taking the two Asgardians with it.

An odd sense of calm was left in their wake. A few moments passed as the group looked around at each other, and then they began to disperse. Kat pushed up off the tree and crossed the street to join them. When she reached him, Steve put an arm around her shoulder.

"So," she said, "what now?"

"I think we've all earned a little time off," Tony said flippantly, hopping into the driver's seat of a sleek, dark red supercar. Dr Banner slid into the passenger seat next to him, placing a pair of sunglasses on his face.

"Some more than others," he chimed in good-naturedly. Kat leaned into Steve's side, and his grip tightened on her shoulder.

"What about you, Cap?" Natasha asked him, tilting her head and smiling amusedly at the two of them.

Steve looked over at Kat and smiled softly. "I think I'll take some time to adjust to my new life, and the new century I find myself living in."

"Well," Agent Barton added, "looks like you're in good hands." He gave Kat a slight nod before ducking into a SHIELD vehicle and firing up the engine. Natasha nodded at them once more before getting into the passenger seat.

A Harley motorcycle sat nearby. Steve had picked it up a couple weeks ago; a gift from Director Fury, he'd said, but Kat could tell there was something special about this bike in particular. There was so much she still didn't know about him, and his life before Hydra had ruined everything. She just hoped they had time to learn about one another.

After all, they'd made a deal; to try and start over after this whole ordeal was done. And now that it was over, Kat could feel her own trepidation seeping in. What if Steve didn't like the person he found beneath her façade? She had to be honest with him, and that's what scared her the most.

"You ready?" he asked, straddling the bike and holding a hand out towards her. She nodded firmly and gave him a smile, striding towards the bike. Without hesitation, she settled in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding on tight as he fired the ignition.

It didn't really matter where they were going, only that they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the last chapter! There will be one more! Thank you all for your patience and support. And there will be a sequel (or two ;P) to cover the events of the other movies. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please review!


	14. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! This is the last chapter of this installment. I hope you all enjoy!

Birds were singing, and children were laughing as they played on a nearby jungle gym. Adults conversed with one another casually, keeping one eye on their kids and the other on their companions. Running water gurgled softly somewhere nearby. It was another peaceful day in Central Park...

But Katherine heard none of it.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, so loud she was sure everyone around her could hear it too. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't calm her raging nerves. It felt like someone had just pumped adrenaline into her system, and she needed to run three miles or risk her head exploding. The auras all around her were pressing in, suffocating her with their weight and light. The world was a circus of color and buzzing energy. It was all too much.

Steve had asked her to meet him here today, saying very little about what was on his mind, and less about what he wanted to discuss. But she was afraid of what today might hold all the same. The last time they'd met here, Kat had revealed the truth about her involvement in SHIELD to him, believing that would be the last time they ever saw one another. How wrong she had been.

Six months had passed since the Chitauri invasion, and the city was slowly healing from the devastating attack. She still had nightmares sometimes, about the creatures trying to break into her home. Sometimes they did, and she was totally helpless to protect her family. Other times, she was battling them alongside Steve, right in the middle of Park Avenue, taking the aliens down one-by-one with the sniper rifle that had belonged to her Uncle Bucky. But every time, Steve ended up dead in her arms. Night after night, she awoke in a cold sweat to the quiet of her grandmother's house.

She was safe... Steve was safe... _Everyone was safe._

Through it all, Steve had been a constant presence, her rock when it felt like she was drowning. He didn't ever let on what issues he might be having, though she figured this was nothing new for him. After all, he had fought monsters far more vicious in his previous life.

But today... Today, his voice had been different when she'd answered her phone. There was trepidation, and his tone was disturbingly serious. Her mind was racing, as she sat on that park bench, trying to imagine the outcome of a hundred different scenarios.

Their friendship had come back to them easily, as though the hurt and betrayal they'd experienced had never happened. Kat still did everything she could to teach Steve about the modern world, and he was well on his way to becoming adjusted... well, as adjusted as he could be. Kat knew there would always be a part of his heart that remained in 1943. A portion of it was reserved for his childhood friend; the other...

It was stupid to be envious of her. Kat knew it. But that didn't mean she wasn't. Peggy Carter was an old woman now, confined to a nursing home and requiring constant care. She hadn't always been that way though, and Kat knew that Steve would love Peggy forever, regardless of the decades that had separated them. That didn't mean Steve didn't care about _her_ as well... did it?

"God, what am I thinking?" she mumbled quietly to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the noise and the pressure to go away. _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

"I ask myself that on a daily basis." Kat whipped her head around, eyes wide and hands shaking. She'd been so wrapped up in herself, she hadn't even felt Steve approaching. When had she become so oblivious?

On weak knees, she slowly stood, clasping her hands at her waist and staring at him expectantly. When he didn't say anything else, she whispered softly, "Hi, Steve. How are you?" It may have been a stupid thing to ask, but it was all her useless brain could come up with in the moment.

His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, but she could see his fingers twitching nervously. And it _definitely_ didn't do anything to calm her nerves. "I've been good..." he started slowly. They hadn't seen each other in a week, and they'd spoken once or twice over the phone. It was the longest they'd gone without seeing one another since the Chitauri attack.

"Can we get this over with, please?" she breathed, holding back the tears. He hadn't even said anything, and already she was losing her grip.

His blue eyes traveled her face, and he gave her a grim nod. With long strides, he came over to the bench and sat down, staring across the greenway to the playground beyond. Kat resumed her place beside him, clasping her hands in her lap. A pit was forming in her stomach, gnawing away at her sensibilities. Whatever he had to say, it couldn't be that bad... _could it?_

"There isn't an easy way to say this," he said, making her heart leap. "So I'll just come right out and say it." He paused for a few breaths, brow furrowed in consternation. "I'm leaving New York City, Kat."

Her heart fell into her stomach, pounding furiously. The blood rushed to her ears and she could feel her eyes growing wider as she gazed at him.

"W-what?" she asked stupidly, as if he hadn't been speaking perfectly clear English.

He tilted his head towards her. "I have to, Kat," he said softly, reaching over a calloused hand and grasping hers.

"But... but we need you _here_ ," she insisted. "There's still so much to be done, and we haven't fully investigated the threat of the Chitauri and the Asgardians. There's so many things we don't know and you're integral to that investigation. No one—maybe besides Dr. Banner—knows more about the Tesseract and how it works, and—"

"Kat," he said sternly, cutting off her stream of words. She clamped her mouth shut in embarrassment, feeling the heat of her blood rise to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she replied quietly. "But Steve... we _do_ need you. Where are you going?"

He looked down at their clasped hands, studying them as though he was trying to remember the way their fingers fit together. "I've discussed it with Director Fury, at length. SHIELD is now a public presence; a government agency that has come out of the shadows and that has to be regulated. They've decided to move their operations to a permanent location... in Washington, D.C."

Kat couldn't help the gasp that she let loose. "D.C.?" she asked incredulously. "Y-you're... you're moving to _Washington, D.C.?_ " His mouth was set in a thin line as he allowed the information to sink in.

"It's where I can do the most good, Kitty," he continued softly. He'd taken to using the nickname Nana had bestowed on her, just in the last few weeks. But right now... right now it felt like a slap in the face.

"Do the most good?" she bit back, more harshly than she'd intended. "D.C. wasn't attacked, Steve. New York was. And we need you here."

"New York needs to heal," he returned firmly. "I'm not a doctor, Kat. I'm a soldier. I go in, fight, complete the mission, and move on the next one... I'm no good at this."

"That isn't true!" Steve seemed taken aback by her forcefulness. "You aren't just a soldier, Steve, not anymore. After the Chitauri attacked and Loki was defeated, everything changed. You're Captain America, Steve. You're a symbol of hope to people who need it, and you are needed _here."_

Slowly, he pulled back his hand and sat up a little straighter. "I'm sorry, Kat," he said quietly, "but this is not up for debate. Everything is already set up. I just—"

"What?" she snapped, narrowing her gaze. "Just wanted to let me know that how I feel about this doesn't matter? That the last six months have meant _nothing_ to you?"

"That isn't true, Kat, and you know it." She inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. It wouldn't help either of them to lose their temper. "What I wanted," he continued, "was to ask you... to come with me."

That was the last thing she'd expected to come out of his mouth. "You... what?"

He angled towards her and pulled her hands closer to him. "I want you to come with me to D.C. You're brilliant, Kat. I know you could find a job in your field there, and then—"

"And then I'd have to abandon my family and my life here," she finished for him, her voice going cold. Slowly, she drew her hands away, and paid no mind to the hurt on Steve's face. "I can't do that, Steve. And I can't believe you would ask me to."

"I just—"

"Who would take care of my grandmother? Hmm? What about my studies? I still have a year left until I've got my graduate degree. Or would you ask me to give that up too?"

"That isn't what I'm saying," he said emphatically. Quickly, she got to her feet and began backing away from him.

"Do what you have to do," she said in a low voice. "You obviously didn't feel you needed to take my feelings into consideration when you made this decision, so don't let my feelings affect you now."

He stood up as well, reaching for her. "Please don't be like this, Kat," he said softly, pleadingly. It felt like an ocean lay between them, the waves crashing and thunderheads rolling in on the horizon.

"We're on two different paths..." She gasped for breath, trying desperately to steady her heart rate. "We can't look back. If we look back, then we're lost. You feel like this is what you have to do; I can't argue with that."

"So you're just going to lay down and accept it?"

"You said yourself it wasn't up for debate, Steve. What choice do I have?" His face fell as she continued to back away from him. "I'm sorry. But this is goodbye."

"No," Steve said hastily, "I'm not leaving for another few weeks."

"I don't want to see you again, Steve." The harshness of her own voice was grating against her ears. "This is painful enough as it is. I can't go through the goodbyes all over again. I'll give Nana your best."

Before he could say another word, Kat turned on her heel and stalked back towards the path, fighting the intense desire to turn around and run to him. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him like it was the last time. It probably would have been. But her heart was breaking in her chest, and the pain overshadowed everything.

She could feel his eyes following her as she trekked further into the park, not really caring where she was going or how lost she would probably get. If he'd wanted to follow her, he didn't show it. And she was so attuned to his aura that miles passed beneath her feet before she couldn't sense him anymore. The cityscape rose up around her, shielding her from the feel of him. It didn't do anything to ease the ache in her chest, but it helped her ignore it.

If only she could ignore the tears sliding down her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

_Two months later..._

The Potomac River flowed lazily down below, always moving steadily towards the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. Steve found himself staring at the water more often than not. It was calming, in a way. Over the past two months, his life had been upheaved once more, though admittedly in a less-dramatic fashion than before. It was nice to think about something so constant every once in a while.

The concrete of the bridge beneath his feet felt steady too. The traffic going by; the sirens blaring in the distance; the bustle of tourists and those who worked in the nation's capital. Day in and day out, the world moved on. Yet all he could think of was Kat and how she was doing. The 226 miles that separated them felt like thousands.

She'd cut him off completely, and he hated that he couldn't blame her. Maybe he had gone about telling her the wrong way. But what was he supposed to do? He had a duty to serve in whatever capacity he was able; he couldn't just abandon that. But he hadn't wanted to abandon her either. Decisions that should have been easy were suddenly difficult, and hearts had been broken in the process of making them. Including his own...

"Do you do anything other than sulk?" a voice questioned from behind him.

"As always, Natasha, your sympathy is overwhelming." He could feel her smirking at him, but he refused to turn around. She walked towards him and leaned against the stone railing. "Besides, I'm not sulking, I just needed a bit of fresh air to clear my head."

"Is that what they're calling it now? Looks a lot like sulking to me."

"I don't even have anything to _sulk_ about," he grumbled, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his spine.

"Oh really?" she quipped back with a quirked eyebrow. "Cuz I know this gorgeous brunette that's totally sulk-worthy."

Steve didn't always understand Natasha's odd sense of humor, but her implication was not lost on him. "Ya know, no matter how many times you bring it up–" he turned to face her, one elbow still leaning on the railing "–I'm still not gonna want to talk about it."

"Now, Steve," she crooned, "what would Dr. Singer say about that?"

"Not a damn thing, since she's not my therapist anymore." Their banter helped to lighten his mood a bit, and he found smiling to come a little bit easier. "Besides, you're a poor substitute."

"Ouch." She clutched her chest dramatically, feigning hurt. "When did you start verbal sparring lessons?"

"Well," he said quietly, looking at the ground, "Kat was a good teacher."

They stood there in silence for a moment, until Natasha reached out and put a hand on his broad shoulder. "Let's grab some lunch, yeah? Once they send us out in the field, it'll be a while before we eat anything other than an MRE."

"Sure," Steve said with a shrug, pushing away from the stone and falling into step beside Natasha. Up ahead, the Lincoln Memorial was teeming with tourists. Even though it was hotter than hell out in the middle of July, this was peak season. But in civilian clothes, Steve found that he could still remain fairly anonymous; he wasn't too nervous about being spotted. Only the truly dedicated recognized him without his helmet anyways.

They made their way towards the mall, taking their time as swarms of people buzzed around them. The museums were filled with people, lines forming at the National Archives in particular. They took a seat on the patio of the Pavilion Café, overlooking a small garden with a large fountain at its center. Even though the air was filled with noise, Steve felt at peace in this tiny oasis amid the metropolis.

"So..." Natasha said expectantly when the silence had stretched too long. She was staring out over the gardens, sunglasses perched on her face to shield her eyes, pretending to be ambivalent. Steve got the distinct feeling she was more interested than she let on.

"You're not gonna give up, are you?" She shook her head and gave him a wry smirk. "Fine..." he sighed, rubbing absently at the edge of the wrought iron table. "What happened between Kat and me is that I moved to D.C. to be a part of SHIELD, and Kat stayed in New York to finish her studies and take care of her grandmother."

"And?" she prompted. Steve gave her an innocent look. "Steven Rogers, I used to be a Russian spy–"

" _Used_ to be?"

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully and crossed her arms over her chest. "You really think you can lie to me?"

"It isn't a lie," he said defensively.

"But I know there's more to the story." Steve couldn't understand why she was so interested in the first place.

He heaved another sigh. "Okay, look... the truth is that she tried to convince me to stay in New York... and I asked her to come with me to D.C."

"Ooh," Natasha said knowingly. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly. "It explains why Kat looked so upset the last time I saw her."

"The wha–you saw her?" Steve's heart began to race in his chest. For some reason he couldn't quite explain, he was thrilled at the mention of her.

Natasha gave him a nod. "About three weeks ago. I had a few things to finish up in New York before moving down here permanently. She was at the Tower that day, and we talked a little bit."

"How was she? Did she look–?"

"Well," Natasha cut in, "like I said, she was upset. Now I understand why."

"I know I screwed things up..."

"You can say that again," she mumbled. "What possessed you to ask her to come with you?"

Steve snapped his head up to look at her, eyes narrowing in confusion. "I want to be with her, Natasha, in whatever way I can. I can't do that when we're nearly three hundred miles away from one another."

"So you asked her to give up everything? Drop her entire life and follow you like a love struck school girl?" Natasha's words were harsh, but Steve hadn't really seen it that way. He'd thought it would be romantic; obviously, that thought had backfired. He'd thought about it a lot over the past two months, and he knew he shouldn't have asked that of her. He should have tried to work out some compromise, instead of watching her walk away and not even look back at him.

"I know," he replied softly, averting his eyes. "It was stupid, and I've regretted it every day since. But what can I do?"

"Mmm, you can apologize, for starters. And you can attempt to make amends."

"But how do I do that?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "That isn't for me to say."

He smirked and let out a small chuckle. "Oh, _now_ you're out of advice?"

"Look, Steve," she said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table, "I like you, and I want to see you happy. Whatever way I can help in that, I'll do it. But I can't tell you what to do to fix this. You've got to figure that out between the two of you."

Steve let her words sink in, and then nodded. She was right, he knew. It would be up to him to fix what was broken between them, since he'd broken it in the first place. The problem was, Kat didn't want to have anything to do with him. He'd tried to call her–even written her letters–but she wouldn't ever reply. One time, Edith had written him back, and gave him the same advice she'd offered so long ago. ' _Give her time, Steve. She'll come around.'_ But it was hard to believe those words.

"Thanks, Natasha," he said quietly, leaning back in his chair. "But right now, we've got a mission to prepare for. Fury is sending us out first thing tomorrow."

"Be careful, Steve," she warned, causing him to look up. "Don't let yourself fall back into the comfort of being the soldier. You're more than that now, and we know it."

He nodded, but didn't take her words to heart. War was all he knew. How had he ever deluded himself into thinking he could be anything other than Captain America? When he'd met Kat, it'd had been the first time he'd truly felt alive since awakening from the ice. But then everything had gone to hell, and he didn't know how to fix it. He'd give Kat her space, and time to come around. When she was ready, he'd be waiting.

But until that day, there were battles to be fought and people to protect. So he'd do what he was good at; what he was made for. He'd continue to be Captain America until the day he wasn't needed anymore.

* * *

_ TO BE CONTINUED... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I hope you all enjoyed this installment of Steve and Kat's story. Reviews are always welcome! Stay tuned in the coming months for the next part. Thank you!


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